Half Of My Heart
by Slovesemmett
Summary: After a devastating and very public break up with her boyfriend, actress Rory Gilmore tries to put her life back together. Completely AU. Eventual TRORY. - Bumped to M rating at Chapter 28 -
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is an AU story, with inspiration coming from several different places. Firstly, the title is from a John Mayer song, which I think fits this story. Secondly, the concept is borrowed and twisted from a Susan Elizabeth Phillips book. Thirdly, the whole desire to write a Trory came from Musical Redhead... who is an amazing Trory writer. If you haven't read her stuff, you really, really should. **

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><p>Flash bulbs went off everywhere when Rory Gilmore stepped out of Christophe's in Beverly Hills. At almost 30 she was used to it, she'd been in the spotlight since she was a teenager. She smiled as she tried to politely push her way through the crowd.<p>

"New hairstyle Rory?" one of the bolder paparazzi asked her.

"What do you think?" she replied in a good-natured yet sarcastic tone as she shook out her new haircut. She'd just had her long dark locks chopped so much that they barely reached the tops of her shoulders.

"Is this because of Logan?" another asked.

"Nope just time for a change," she lied with a big smile. Hollywood rule number one, don't let the press see you upset.

Logan Huntzberger was her most recent ex. They'd worked on a romantic comedy together several years ago, and like the old Hollywood cliché they hit it off and fell in love. Move over Brad and Angelina, Rory and Logan were the new 'IT' couple. They dated for four years, before breaking up just two short months ago when Rory brought up marriage and Logan told her that he had no intention of ever getting married.

Logan had liked her hair long, and now whenever she saw herself in the mirror she didn't see Rory Gilmore, she saw Logan Huntzberger's Girlfriend. That needed to change, hence the trip to Christophe's.

"So how do you feel about Logan's engagement to Fallon MacIntyre?"

"Excuse me?" she said. One of the paps held out a paper for her. And there in all his glory was Logan Huntzberger holding hands with Fallon MacIntyre, America's favorite slutty friend, smiling widely while she showed off a huge engagement ring. Rory willed herself not to react, but she couldn't help it, her bag full of salon products fell from her hand, and her knees buckled. She backed up trying to find the wall to lean against, but was met with more members of the press instead.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan DuGrey lit a cigarette and watched events unfold from his outdoor balcony table at his favorite bistro across from Christophe's. Goody-Goody Gilmore was finally getting what she deserved.

Tristan DuGrey first met Rory Gilmore on the set of their sitcom. Molly's World. She played the title character Molly Taylor. She was the 90's version of Alex P. Keaton, preppy and perfect, if slightly naïve. Her character was overly smart, and had skipped a few grades, leaving her shy and awkward around the opposite sex. He played Chad Michaels, Molly's dream man. He was two years older, but due to her skipped grades, in all of her classes. He was Mr. Popular, varsity sports with the cheerleader girlfriend, and an all around good guy. Except Chad didn't even notice Molly was alive. While Rory and Molly were virtually the same person, Tristan and Chad were complete opposites. The producers loved Rory, and she could do no wrong, whereas Tristan was forever showing up late and getting into scrapes with both the law and the press. After four seasons Tristan's bad boy image completely overshadowed Chad's obliviously adorable good guy, and the show was cancelled.

Even though Molly's World was cancelled, much like Saved By The Bell, it lived on in syndication. Rory went on to become America's favorite girl next door, while Tristan went on to do bit parts in straight to video movies. Logically he knew it wasn't her fault, but he still couldn't help but blame Rory for his failures.

He watched as Rory remained on the ground. Content as a bystander until her eyes locked with his. Then he snuffed his cigarette, and headed into the restaurant proper.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory's mind raced a million miles a minute as she sat on the ground. How could he? She bit her lip trying to pull herself together. She could not show emotion. The cameras got closer and she felt surrounded. She glanced around for help, and that's when her eyes met Tristan's sitting at a table across the way. Of course that ass did nothing to help her. But her anger at Logan morphed into anger at Tristan, and helped her return to herself.

"Excuse me guys," she started politely. "Do you think you could back up so I can stand up?" She smiled up at them from her spot on the ground.

"Hey everybody! Take one step back!" One of the bigger photographers called, and everyone stepped back.

"Thanks," she said as she stood up and brushed herself off. "Sorry about that, I must have caught my heel on something."

"So about Logan's engagement?" one of the girls in the back hollered.

"I'm very happy for Logan. I hope he and Fallon are very happy together," she replied through her pasted on smile. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a lunch date to get to."

She made her way through the masses and across the street into the bistro that Tristan was in moments before.

"Ms. Gilmore, Mr. Harrison has already arrived and is seated at your table."

"Thanks," she said politely as she followed the hostess towards the back of the restaurant.

"Looking good Gilmore, like the new haircut," Marty, her best friend, said as he stood from the table and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Thanks," she replied, kissing his cheek in return. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Had a bit of a mob outside."

"Oh?" he looked at her quizzically.

"Logan's getting married," she said quietly. Her fake smile was plastered on her face, but Marty knew her well enough to see past that.

Marty Harrison had played Chip Douglas, Chad's best friend, and the only boy to ever notice Molly in Molly's World. Even now, years after the show was cancelled, there was a dedicated following of 'shippers who wanted Molly and Chip together, even though Molly only ever had eyes for Chad. In real life, Rory had a crush on Tristan, but unlike his alter ego who remained adorably oblivious to Molly's desires, Tristan was aware of Rory's feelings, but made it completely obvious that he found them laughable. And while Marty may have once had feelings for Rory, he let them go, and settled in as the best friend. And now, a decade later, he was perfectly content in that role. While Marty went on to some successful ventures after Molly's World, he pretty much stayed out of the spot light. He preferred writing and directing over acting these days, and stuck to smaller oddball indie flicks. Rory brought too much attention to everything she did, and as much as he loved her, he didn't want that kind of attention anymore.

Marty smiled back at her, he too was well trained in the 'never let them see you sweat' school of thought. "I'm sorry Rory."

"That's not the worst part. The worst part is they totally caught me off guard, and I fell, and when I looked up, I saw Tristan DuGrey watching the whole thing from the balcony here."

Marty held his smile in place but rolled his eyes to indicate his annoyance. "You don't still have a thing for him do you?" he asked under his breath.

"Of course not!" she hissed back. "I hate him. I'm pissed that he witnessed my weakness!"

"You're not weak Rory."

"No. I just look weak. Ever since Logan and I broke up every time I turn around I'm in the tabloids. I was out to dinner with Paris and Lane, had one martini, and there are pictures of me with the caption 'Gilmore drowns her sorrows' and quotes saying that my friends are worried about me because of my drinking and how it's increased since Logan and I split up. There are pictures of me in a swimsuit saying I've got an eating disorder now because of my depression. The pictures are from 3 years ago when Logan and I were still together! Even if I have lost a few pounds, so what! Everyone does that when they break up! Now I'm sure tomorrow the pics of me on the ground will be headlined with 'Gilmore so grief stricken she collapses at the news of Huntzberger's engagement'."

"It sucks," Marty agreed. "But isn't that why you fell?"

"Okay, so I'm surprised that he's getting married. I'm not grief stricken over it," she professed. Maybe a little grief stricken, but there was no way it was apparent in the pictures. "I'm just so sick of everything being such a big deal."

"I'm sure once you start dating someone new, the tabs will move on."

"True. And as far as I'm concerned that can't happen soon enough." The wheels in Rory's head started turning.

Rory and Marty ordered lunch, and made small talk about their work while they waited for the food to arrive.

"Hey Marty?"

"Yeah?"

"We're friends right?"

"You're my best friend and you know it," he replied, not sure where she was going.

"So as the best friend, you're willing to do what you can to help me out, right?"

"With in reason," he replied hesitantly.

Rory glanced around the room to see if anyone was nearby before she leaned in to ask her favor. "Be my boyfriend," she whispered with a smile.

"Rory!" he replied, with a little more force than he expected.

"Just for show. Be seen out with me, hold my hand, wrap an arm around my shoulder when we're together. Give the press something else to talk about besides how devastated I am over Logan. Please?" she pleaded.

"Rory, you know I love you, but I can't jump into the fray with you."

"Isn't this rich?" A familiar voice came from behind her. "Little Mary Gilmore begging for a boyfriend." Tristan stepped out from behind her and slid into one of the two empty chairs at the table. "I bet the press would be all over this."

"Tristan, you wouldn't dare!" Rory hissed.

Marty gave him a disapproving look. "Hello DuGrey."

"Harrison," Tristan returned. "How've you been?"

"Gainfully employed," Marty retorted back with a sneer.

"Oh ouch. You wound me," Tristan drawled in return, sarcastically.

"What do you want Tristan?" Rory asked, hoping to stop Tristan and Marty from drawing attention to the table.

"Just thought I'd stop and say hi," he said innocently.

"Yeah right," Marty snorted. "Just thought he'd try to get a little publicity by being seen with you he means."

Tristan ignored Marty and focused on Rory. "So Mary, what's got you begging for a boyfriend this time? Last I heard you were hot and heavy with that douche bag Huntzberger."

"Lower your voice! And Logan is not a douche bag!" she automatically defended her ex. "And I wasn't begging for a boyfriend," she hissed.

"That's sure what it sounded like to me. And I have a hunch the press would be inclined to agree."

"Who do you think they'll believe? You can hardly get arrested in this town, and they all love me," Rory reminded him with a smirk.

Before Tristan could respond, the waitress arrived. "Does anybody need anything?" she asked, looking at Marty and Rory.

"We're fine," Marty answered.

"Can I get a Jack and Coke?" Tristan asked.

The waitress looked at him, then realized who he was. "Sure, Mr. DuGrey." She disappeared to get his drink, and the three of them sat in silence.

"So what are you doing here?" Marty finally asked.

"Just saw you two sitting over here and thought I'd come say hi to my old cast mates," Tristan lied.

The waitress chose this moment to return with his drink, and he turned and smiled his million-watt smile at her, the one that melted hearts all over the country when he was Chad Michaels. "Do you think you could take a picture of the three of us together?" he asked. "I think it's been 10 years since all of us were in the same place at the same time."

Rory tried not to grimace at the thought, but he was right. It was the wrap party for Molly's World. She'd seen him a couple times since then, mainly across a crowded room at large events. As much as she hated Tristan, especially in the last year of filming, she never let it show to anyone but her closest friends. It was one of her greatest triumphs that the press had no clue how much she hated him.

"Of course!" the waitress said excitedly as Tristan handed her his phone. "I loved Molly's World when I was a kid! Hey, do you think there's any chance of a reunion show?"

Tristan stood up, and walked around to the other side of the table to crouch down between Marty and Rory, amiably throwing an arm around each of them.

"Smile big," Rory said through her teeth to Marty. "You know we'll be seeing this in the tabs tomorrow."

Marty sighed through his smile in response.

The waitress snapped a couple of pictures with Tristan's phone, then used her own phone to take a couple as well. "You don't mind if I keep one for myself, do you?" she asked as she snapped away.

"Of course not," Tristan said with a grin. Rory and Marty sat silently by with their photo op smiles pasted on tightly.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

As expected, the photo of Rory, Marty, and Tristan showed up within hours on online gossip sites, and two of the three major tabloids included in their issues as well. It wasn't nearly as large as pictures of Rory on the ground outside of Christophe's (which were captioned as she'd anticipated), but it was there.

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><p><strong>AN 2: So what do you think? As usual, I don't own any of it... but should I continue? <strong>

**Reviews would be lovely... and encouraging... I'm almost done with Chapter Two :) **

**Thanks for reading! S**


	2. Chapter 2

Weeks had passed since the incident outside of Christophe's, but instead of getting better, things were getting worse. If Rory didn't make appearances the press assumed she was too distraught to get out of bed. If she did make appearances they were picked apart. She was too thin, or trying too hard to look happy, or drinking too much. It seemed that no matter what she did, Rory Gilmore couldn't win. She tried throwing herself into her work, but her most recent project was postponed due to her costar's sudden stint in rehab, and therefore she was left with too much time on her hands.

"Why don't you go visit your dad?" Marty asked, one night as they spoke on the phone, and she'd expressed her boredom for the hundredth time.

"Visit my dad?" she repeated curiously.

"Why not?" Marty prompted. "Stars Hollow is far enough from Hollywood, that maybe the press will leave you alone for a while."

Rory thought about it for a moment before responding. She didn't have a great relationship with her dad, but it would be nice to spend some time with the rest of her family, and her childhood friends. "That's a good idea Marty!" she exclaimed.

"Glad I could help. So when do you think you'll go?" Marty wasn't being completely altruistic here, as much as he loved his best friend, he needed a break. Because of the amount of scrutiny she was under, she was simultaneously bored and outraged, and he was reaching the end of his rope. Maybe some time away would help the press forget about her and Logan… and being out of the spotlight would allow her to regain some semblance of normalcy in her life. Marty desperately missed his best friend of old.

"I'll call my dad and maybe I can go this weekend."

"Will you stay a while?"

Rory sighed, and Marty could picture her pacing in the living room as she thought about her response. "Who knows. Filming is shut down for a month at least, so maybe I'll stay for a few weeks."

"Well have fun, and call me when you get there," Marty said supportively.

"Thanks Marty. I know I must be driving you crazy these days."

While Marty didn't want to outright admit that she was right, he didn't want to lie to her either. "I love you anyway."

"I love you too," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye," he replied, but instead of a response, he just heard the click of the call terminating.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

After she hung up the phone, Rory started packing. She pulled out her largest suitcase and started grabbing outfits from her closet. She was almost packed by the time she worked up the nerve to call her dad.

"Hello?" Christopher Hayden answered on the third ring.

"Hey Dad, it's me," Rory said quietly.

"Rory? How are you Honey?" he asked in a concerned parental voice.

"Bored out of my mind!" she admitted. "My film is currently shut down based on _someone's_ trip to rehab."

"I told you you shouldn't have signed on to do a film with him didn't I?" her father chided.

"You were right Dad," she said with a resigned sigh, she could picture him smiling triumphantly at her concession.

"So what's going on?" he asked, getting right to the point.

"With filming shut down, I was thinking of coming for a visit."

"Really? That would be great! I can't remember the last time I got to spend your birthday with you."

The guilt trip. She should have expected it, but she'd completely forgotten her birthday was approaching.

"So when do you think you'll be here?" he asked.

"I was thinking I could fly out tomorrow morning. Do you think you could pick me up at the airport?"

"I'm sure something can be arranged."

Rory idly fiddled with the shoes she'd just packed into her suitcase. "Thanks Dad. I'll text you with my flight info."

"See you tomorrow Kid," Christopher said happily.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory booked her flight and texted her father with the information. She began to pace as replayed her father's words in her head _I can't remember the last time I got to spend your birthday with you_. Rory hated her birthday. She usually had some big all-star bash to mark the occasion, as that's what was expected of her, but really it just made her hate the day even more.

When she was a teenager, her father tried to keep her firmly grounded in reality, so even though she was the star of a TV show, he still made her go to a normal school. While he thought this helped, really all it did was make her feel left out. She couldn't participate in any of the after school activities, because they conflicted with filming, and all of the kids at school sucked up to her, wanting to be able to claim Rory Gilmore as a friend, but none of them were actually her friends. Her birthday parties were grand affairs where everyone showed up just to get a look at her house and hopefully meet her costars.

She had a few memories of good birthday parties. When her mom was alive, her birthday was fun. They would do silly things, like have treasure hunts, and tea parties, and go roller-skating. Even her dad would join in on the fun. But when her mom died, a piece of her dad did as well.

It all changed on her eighth birthday, when her mom went to pick up her birthday cake (chocolate cherry chip with vanilla frosting) and never made it home. There was a moratorium on birthday celebrations for a few years, but at about the five-year mark, Christopher decided it was time for them to move on. So every year, she put on her happy face and thanked God that she was a good enough actress to pull off happy for her birthday party.

Rory sighed and picked up her phone. She scrolled through her contacts list until she got to his number. Logan. She ached to call him. He was the only person she'd ever told about her hatred of her birthday and the reasoning behind it. Sure plenty of people knew that her mother had died on her birthday, but no one knew how much it still affected her. If only she'd wanted something that could have been purchased at the local grocery store her mother wouldn't have been on the road with those drunk drivers. She sniffled, as though she could retract the tears sliding down her face, and wiped at her eyes, then threw the phone on the bed. There was no way she could call him now. Instead she did the next best thing, she ran a bubble bath, poured herself a glass of wine, and went to find her mother's worn out copy of The Secret Garden.

When the tub finished filling, she sunk into it, letting the bubbles come up and surround her, and letting the warmth of the water envelop her. She leaned back and let the hot water work its magic for a few minutes before she dried off her hands and reached for the book.

As she read, she could hear her mother's voice in her head, reading the book aloud to her as she had many times when Rory was a child. Making funny voices, trying to mimic the accents in the book, and making animal sounds. "Oh Mom," Rory whimpered aloud, "I wish you were here." She set the book down and closed her eyes and tried to remember her mom.

She could picture Lorelai Gilmore easily enough. She'd seen pictures of her a million times: her piercing blue eyes, which Rory inherited, and her long raven locks, which Rory did not. She was always smiling and laughing. Just what one would expect of a comedienne.

Long before Rory was born, her mother ran away from home. She packed her bag and took the bus to Hollywood, leaving behind her stuffy Connecticut life. It was the early 80's and she wanted to be a star. She'd taken a waitressing job in a late night comedy club, and one night, when the sound guy didn't show up, she was helping out and goofing around doing the sound check, not knowing one of the writers from Saturday Night Live was in the audience. The audience roared with laughter at her dorky jokes, further encouraging her behavior, and the writer offered her an audition for the show. A month later she joined the cast, and the rest was history.

That knowledge wasn't part of Rory's memory though, just a story she'd heard over and over again. Her memories of her mother were simpler. Kissing boo-boos, walking her to her first day of school (and allowing her to wear a Chico and the Man shirt), having funerals for goldfish, reading The Secret Garden, and her personal favorite, her mom climbing into bed with her at exactly 4:03 on her birthday to tell her the story of her birth. These were the things she planned to do for her own children, if she ever had them.

Rory sighed and sat up. She'd been lying in the bathtub wallowing for long enough. She pulled the plug on the tub, wiped her tears away, and drained the last of her wine. As the tub finished draining, Rory stood up and pulled on a big terry cloth robe. She brushed her teeth and headed towards her bed, retrieving the phone from where she'd thrown it earlier. She noticed the missed text message from her father.

_A car will be waiting for you tomorrow. I have a meeting I can't miss, but I'll see you at home for dinner. Love, Dad. _

Of course. Rory shook her head, and questioned her reasoning for visiting again. But instead of getting too wrapped up in the thought, she decided to text Marty. She would have called him, but she was sure he'd hear the thickness in her voice, left behind by her tears. Besides, she'd talked to him three or four times a day lately, he could probably use the break.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The following morning found Rory in a much less melancholy mood. She managed to eat both of the Pop Tarts in the package along with her morning coffee, instead of the half of one she'd been struggling to consume every morning since the break up.

She quickly showered and dressed, knowing the car would arrive to take her to the airport at any moment. After she finished getting ready she took the time to study her appearance as she waited for the car. Trying to scrutinize it as the media would. She wore an icy blue long sleeved tee shirt, which was tucked into her favorite Sevens. She'd needed a belt to keep the pants up, but it happened to work with her black stiletto boots, and she'd thrown on a classic black blazer over the top, which pretty much hid the belt. Not too put together, but not slovenly either. Just right for a cross-country flight. Her hair was down, and curling just a little bit as it naturally did. It was slightly too short to tie up in a ponytail, but her sunglasses could be used to hold it back from her face if it got too unruly.

Rory leaned a little closer to the mirror to inspect her makeup. It didn't seem to matter how much concealer she wore, the dark circles still showed through, like a beacon for the paparazzi. _Look at me! Still not over Logan!_ they screamed. She grimaced at her reflection, and dug in her purse for her largest, darkest glasses. She had just finished putting the glasses on when the doorbell rang.

"Car service," a deep voice called from the other side of the door.

"Coming!" she called back, as she grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door.

The driver hefted her suitcase into the trunk of the long black town car, and held the door open for her to climb into the back seat. Other than asking her which airline she was flying, the ride was silent.

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><p><strong>AN: I know, two chapters in one day. Don't expect it… but it's always easiest to start off a new story. This chapter is mostly background. Tristan will probably back in the next chapter or two. <strong>

**I still don't own any of it. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**S**


	3. Chapter 3

"Dugrey," Tristan answered on the first ring.

"She's on a plane to Connecticut," a voice said on the other end of the phone.

Before he could ask questions or even say thank you for the information, the caller had disconnected.

So Goody-Goody Gilmore had run home to Daddy. Tristan sighed. He hated Connecticut.

Since Rory was the star of Molly's World, and Rory's Daddy insisted she stay in school, the network had moved filming of the show to Connecticut. The show only filmed six months out of the year, but still, for most of the cast, that meant living in Podunk USA for all of that time. The first season Tristan had been okay with the location. His mom had come with him, and that meant that he had some semblance of a normal life. He missed his friends, but he made friends with some of the cast members. He learned his lines, filmed for a while, then spent the afternoon with tutors. At night his mom made dinner, and everything seemed just the same as it had always been.

But after the first season, Tristan's parents separated. His dad was sick of his mom spending so much time away from home, and had started sleeping with his secretary. His mom was mad at his dad, and took it out on Tristan. After all, it was his fault they were kept apart, even though it was his income that kept the family afloat when his dad took a bath in the stock market. Towards the end of the second season Tristan turned 18, and his mom took that as a sign that he was an adult and could therefore live on his own. She high-tailed it back to LA to try and reconcile with his father.

At first, living alone was great. He was 18, relatively wealthy, and famous. What more could a kid ask for? This meant a constant stream of girls and friends running through his life. For the remainder of season two, all was well. He managed to keep up with his lines, and his tutors, but still throw killer parties that lasted all weekend long.

Season three was a different story, and a large part of why he loathed Rory Gilmore. Tristan shuddered at the thought and shook his head to clear the memories. He lit another cigarette. He knew that he should let bygones be bygones, but something about her brought out the antagonist in him. He wanted to watch her twist in the wind and flounder in front of the press. He was thoroughly enjoying the fall out from her break up with Logan.

He took another drag off of his cigarette, and exhaled, blowing out the smoke. He leaned back in his chair and rested his feet on the railing of his balcony, smiling to himself as he appreciated his view. The sun, the surf, and scantily clad girls jogging by, what more could a fella want? For not the first time, he considered that maybe he should give up his grudge against Goody-Goody Gilmore. Sure his life hadn't turned out exactly as he'd wanted it to, but it wasn't all bad either.

Tristan closed his eyes and turned his face to the sun as he took a final pull on his cigarette. Maybe he should just let it go. As he meditated on that thought Rory's face popped up in his mind. There she was, that day at the café, smirking at him because everybody loved her. He could feel his anger rise instantly. Perhaps he wasn't quite ready to let it go after all.

He picked up his phone and dialed a long familiar number. Apparently it was time to phone a friend.

"What do you want?" a gruff voice answered after a few rings.

"Now Paris, is that any way to greet your old friend?"

He heard her exhale deeply, and he could picture her counting to ten before speaking. "Hi Tristan, how are you?" she asked in a falsely chipper voice.

"Much better," he said. "Why, I'm fine Paris. How are you?"

Paris reverted back to her normal voice. "I'm fine. Now what do you want?"

"Just a little information…"

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, this is a very short chapter. I have chapter four ready to go as well. I wasn't going to put this in at all… but thought I'd give you a little taste of Tristan, as it might be another chapter or two before we find him and Rory in the same place again. <strong>

**I still don't own any of it. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. **

**S**


	4. Chapter 4

Rory's flight was long but uneventful. After the plane took off, and the passengers sitting in first class near her got autographs, she was left alone with her thoughts. She fished her iPod out of her purse along with a novel she'd picked up at the duty free store, and did her best to get lost in someone else's world.

She deplaned in Hartford and found a tall man with a traditional chauffeur's outfit on and a sign that said Gilmore waiting for her as close to the gate as he could get. She followed him to baggage claim and pointed out her suitcase as it came down the carousel.

Not long after, she found herself in the back of another black town car, but this time headed to her father's house in Stars Hollow.

She leaned back against the seat, and dialed Lane, her best friend from childhood.

"Hello?" Lane answered on the second ring.

"Hey Lane!"

"Rory! How are you?" she asked.

"I'm good," Rory told her. "I'm in town."

Lane squealed! "Really!"

"Yep!"

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure yet. A week, maybe more," Rory admitted.

"I'm so excited! It feels like it's been forever."

"You were in LA to visit me just a few weeks ago," Rory reminded her.

"True. But visiting you in LA isn't the same as you coming home to visit." Rory couldn't help but agree with her, so she just remained silent. "So what are your plans while you're here? Where are you staying?"

"I'm staying at Dad's. And other than visiting with him, Richard and Emily, and you, I really don't have any plans."

"Did you know Jess was in town?" Lane asked.

"Really?" Rory asked, surprised. Jess was the third Musketeer with her and Lane when they were little. When her dad shipped her off to private school, they'd lost touch. Last she heard he was living in New York, writing for Rolling Stone.

"Yeah, apparently Luke had a minor heart attack, and someone needs to make sure he takes it easy for a few weeks. Somehow Jess ended up with the job," Lane explained.

Rory tried to picture Jess as a caretaker, but somehow she couldn't conjure the image. "Well maybe the three of us can hang out. Catch up. Like old times."

"Sounds good." Lane paused, and Rory knew a request was coming. "Hep Alien is playing a show at The Red Light this weekend. Just a small, unadvertised, show for those in the know… Think you can make it?"

Hep Alien was Lane's band, and while the last album had finally put them on the map, a secret show with celebrity guests could only help their popularity. "Of course!"

"You realize The Red Light is in Atlantic City right?"

Rory winced. _Atlantic City. _"Don't care. I'll still be there." Regardless of her personal feelings about Atlantic City, she grinned at the thought of actually being able to be there for her friend. Lane always understood, but she still felt like a crappy friend when she had to miss big events because of work.

Lane and Rory made idle chit chat until the car slowed, and finally came to a stop. "I think we're here," Rory said finally. "I guess I'd better go."

"Meet me at Luke's for lunch tomorrow?" Lane asked.

"Sure. Noonish?"

"Perfect. See you then."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The house looked the same as she remembered, even though she hadn't been home in more than a decade. The lawn was a little more manicured, but the humorous mailbox was still at the end of the driveway. The house had a fresh coat of paint, but the old porch swing still hung off to the left of the front door.

Rory thanked the chauffeur with a large tip and dragged her suitcase to the front porch. Her dad appeared at the door as she hefted it up the stairs.

"Let me get that for you," he said as he opened the screen door.

Rory let go of the suitcase, content to let her father take over. "Thanks Dad."

While he grabbed the suitcase, Rory took a moment to take him in. Christopher Hayden looked the same as he had since Rory turned eight. Tall and thin, but not skinny. Now in his early 50's he was just starting to go soft in the middle. His brown hair, which was the same color as his daughter's, was cut fairly short, and had yet to start to grey. He smiled at his daughter, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It's good to see you Kid. It's been too long since you've been home."

Rory tried not to let the guilt she was feeling register on her face. "It's good to see you too Dad." It hadn't been all that long since she'd seen her dad. She saw him at her grandparents anniversary party right before she and Logan had broken up.

He pulled the screen door open, and held it for her. "Come on in. I ordered Chinese for dinner, it should be here shortly."

Rory held her breath as she stepped into the house. She looked around, and like the outside of the house, the inside looked the same. There was a bigger TV in the corner, but all of the pictures were still in their places.

"I'll put your bag in your old room, okay?"

"Sounds fine," she replied distractedly. Something caught her eye and she was drawn to the mantel of the fireplace. It was a trip down memory lane. Pictures of things she didn't even remember. Her mom's cast photo from Saturday Night Live. Her parent's wedding picture: Lorelai pregnant and laughing as she stuffed cake into a laughing Christopher's face. Rory knew there were more formal pictures somewhere, but this one was the only one she ever remembered being on display. Finally she got to the one that caught her attention originally, a Halloween picture. Rory figured she must have been around two that year, and Lorelai had dressed all three of them as bees. Christopher was a worker bee (he carried a briefcase), Rory was a baby bee, and Lorelai was the queen bee (she wore a crown). She was still staring at the picture when her father returned.

"Your mom sure loved Halloween," he said quietly.

"I remember," she responded, equally quietly. "Tell me-" before she could finish her request the doorbell rang.

"Dinner's here!" Christopher exclaimed. "Are you hungry?"

She thought about it for a moment, she couldn't remember the last time she was actually hungry. "You bet."

She hung back as he answered the door, not wanting to give the delivery guy any reason to linger. "I got all of you favorites," he said as he shut the door.

Rory turned and headed towards the kitchen, but Christopher went the other way, into the dining room she never remembered using. "I thought we could eat in here," he explained as he set the bag of take out on the already set table.

"That's fine," she said, as she took the seat he'd clearly intended for her.

"Would you like some wine?" he asked as he poured himself a glass.

She picked up her own glass and held it out to him, "Yes please."

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair, consisting mostly of small talk and 'would you pass the [insert dish here]', but as the last of the food was consumed, or in Rory's case pushed around on her plate, Christopher refilled the wine glasses and leaned back in his chair. _This is it,_ Rory thought. The lecture she'd been expecting.

"So what happened with you and Logan?" he asked, straight to the point.

She shrugged in response. "What happens with any break up?"

"Rory," he warned in the tone she remembered from her teen years.

She took a fortifying sip of her wine. "He didn't want to get married. I did. End of story."

"You seemed so happy at the Gilmores' anniversary party," he said, confused.

"We were," she admitted. "But he didn't want to get married, and I didn't want to be someone's girlfriend for the rest of my life. I know it's a very Hollywood thing to do, but it's just not me."

"So is there anyone new on the horizon?" he asked.

"Dad! We just broke up!"

It was Christopher's turn to shrug. "Well maybe he'll change his mind and you two will get back together."

Rory snorted. "Highly unlikely. He did change his mind, but instead of getting back together with me he got engaged to someone else."

The nonchalant expression Christopher had been wearing softened into concern, and he reached out to squeeze his daughter's hand. "I'm sorry Kid. It's his loss and all, but it still sucks."

"Thanks Dad." She managed a smile.

"So what about that Marty guy?"

"Dad!" she said, sounding like an exasperated teenager. "We're just friends."

Christopher harrumphed at that, and Rory decided it was time to take her leave. "You know, it's been a long day. Thanks for dinner, but I think I'll head to my room now."

"Sure, sure," Christopher said as he stood up. He pulled Rory into hug. "I really am glad you came to visit."

She sighed in his arms, wrapped her arms around his waist. "Me too Daddy."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory opened the door to her bedroom and felt like she'd stepped into a time machine. She could smell fresh air and cleaning supplies, so she knew her father had opened the windows to air out the room and had the maid dust and change the sheets, but other than that, the room looked exactly as it had the last time she'd lived there. When she was eight.

She shut the door behind herself and slowly walked around the room, taking in all of the details. The corkboard by the dresser was filed with Havard paraphernalia, and her A papers had been tacked up alongside pictures of her and Lane and Jess, and what looked to be a spelling list. She leaned against the wall and sank down remembering the days after her mother's death as though they'd just happened.

Right after her mother's death, her father had taken her to Hartford to stay with his parents. It was supposed to be a short-term thing, but one month faded into the next, and soon it became a year. Her Grandfather Straub dropped her off at Stars Hollow Elementary every day, and her Grandmother Francine picked her up after school. Her father could barely get out of bed, though he tried for Rory's sake. One morning, about a year after her mother's death, her father seemed to wake up and snap out of his grief. He was never quite the same, but at least he was closer to the man she remembered. He bought them a house in Hartford, and went back to work. They lived in Hartford through Rory's teen years, her father citing convenience as the deciding factor with all of the commercials Rory did, then later Molly's World, it was nice to have his parents around to help pick up the slack in the chauffeuring duties. When the show was cancelled, Rory moved to LA to pursue work in films, and her father moved back to Stars Hollow.

Rory had been back to the house a couple of times since her mother died, but never into her old bedroom. There were just too many memories. It hurt too much.

She pushed herself off the floor and dragged her suitcase over to the closet. She opened it up and dug around for some pajamas. Once she'd changed into some yoga pants and one of Logan's old tee-shirts she climbed into her old bed. She grabbed the teddy bear her mom had given her for her fifth birthday and hugged it to her like a life raft as grief once again washed over her, and she began to openly sob.

There was a soft knock at her door. "Rory, honey, are you okay?" her dad asked as he peeked into the room.

"I miss Mom," she wailed. She was almost 30 years old, yet he rushed across the room to scoop her up in his arms, like she were still a small child.

"Me too Kid. Me too," he said as he held her. "I should have updated your room, I'm sorry. I just…" he trailed off as his voice choked up.

Rory held on to her father tightly. As she cried on his shoulder she could feel his tears drip onto her hair. "It's okay Dad," she whispered, trying to reassure him. "I probably would have been upset if you would have changed anything."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey everybody! Hope you're enjoying the story so far. I know the last few chapters have been a lot of back ground info, and possibly a little dark and angsty, but it looks like Tristan and Rory will find themselves in the same place at the same time in Chapter Six! <strong>

**As usual, I don't own anything.**

**Thanks for reading, and please take a moment to review!**

**S**


	5. Chapter 5

Rory woke with a start, not exactly sure where she was. She rolled over to stretch and promptly fell out of bed. She sat up on the floor and remembered where she was. Her old bedroom in Stars Hollow.

She thought back on the night before, but couldn't remember anything past crying in her father's arms. She climbed back into her bed as she took in her surroundings. It wasn't quite the same in the light of day. The sunlight made the passage of time more apparent. The items adorning her wall now showed their age. Papers and pictures were faded and cracking, and somehow that made the whole situation hurt a little less.

"Rory, are you okay?" her father called from outside of her room.

"Yeah," she called back hoarsely. "Forgot I was sleeping in a twin sized bed and rolled over."

Christopher chuckled. "Well, if you're not hurt, I've got coffee ready."

"Be right out!" She pulled a sweater out of her suitcase and slid it on, tying it tightly around her waist. She shuffled into the kitchen and plopped down at the table. "Coffee please."

He slid a cup of the steaming nectar under her nose and she inhaled deeply. "Two creams one sugar," he recited, proud that he'd remembered how she took her coffee.

"Thanks Dad."

Christopher sat down across from her with his own coffee. "What are your plans today?"

She took a sip of her coffee and signed in contentment. "I've missed Luke's coffee." Her father smiled at her as he waited for her to answer his question. After another sip of coffee she finally answered. "I'm having lunch with Lane, then I thought I'd go visit Richard and Emily."

"Alright, but if you're going to be in Hartford you really should stop in and see your Grandmother Francine as well."

"Okay. Can I borrow the car then?" she asked, feeling very much like a teenager. She could very well have rented her own car, but it seemed a waste.

Her father chuckled again. "Sure. Take the Mercedes and I'll ride my motorcycle today."

Rory laughed. She'd forgotten her dad owned a motorcycle, and somehow the thought of him riding it in his suit just seemed funny. She knew it was an Indian, but for some reason all she could picture was him on a Vespa with a basket on the front to hold his briefcase.

"What?" he asked.

"Just a funny visual," she confessed.

He stood up. "Well I'll leave you to it. If I'm going to ride a motorcycle I'll need to change my clothes."

Rory giggled to herself as she finished her coffee. She was just getting up to pour herself a second cup when her father came back into the kitchen. He was wearing jeans and boots and his old leather jacket. Suddenly he looked twenty years younger. It startled her so much that she gasped, choking on her coffee.

"What is it now?" he asked, sounding annoyed at his daughter.

"Noth- Nothing," she stuttered. "You look so young!"

"Thanks, I think." He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "Have a good day Kid. The keys to the Merc are on the table next to the door."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

After a long hot shower, Rory was dressed and ready to go. She'd taken extra time in picking out what to wear, but she was still an hour earlier than she needed to be. She glanced around the house for something to do. This wasn't like home where she could putter around the house. There was no stack of scripts waiting to be read; she'd left them all at home purposefully. This was supposed to be a vacation of sorts. She glanced at her father's bookshelves but didn't see anything she could pick up and read for a few minutes. If she picked something up, she'd be reading it all day. She thought about heading upstairs to check out the rest of the house, but decided she wasn't ready for that yet, and settled on calling her grandparents.

Rory sat on the edge of the couch as she scrolled through her contacts list, debating whom to call first. She'd seen them all at the same time a few months back at the Gilmores anniversary party, so that didn't help. She was closer to Francine, so her initial reaction was to call her first, but then she realized, Francine would welcome her whenever. If she decided to pop by, it would be okay. Richard and Emily may not feel the same way.

The phone rang a few times before the maid finally picked up. "Gilmore residence."

"May I speak to Emily please?"

"May I let her know who's calling?" the maid asked.

Rory paused for a moment, fearful that given her grandmother's propensity for firing maids, merely giving her name could cause a scene. "Uh, her granddaughter," she said finally.

"Just a moment." The line went silent, and Rory assumed she'd been put on hold. Moments later her grandmother came on the line. "Rory darling, how are you?" Emily asked.

"Just fine Grandma."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

Rory stood up to pace, and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm in town. I thought I'd see if I could come visit you and Grandpa today." The words rushed out of her mouth faster than she'd expected.

"Richard!" her grandmother yelled. "Richard, Rory's in town! Pick up the extension."

Rory heard the click of a second receiver, followed by a deep breath. "Hello?"

"Hi Grandpa," she said timidly.

"What are you doing in town?" Richard asked.

She sighed a little before launching into an explanation, pausing just long enough to let her grandmother jump in. "Who cares why she's here Richard! I'm just glad she is!"

"Thanks Grandma," Rory said with a smile. "Actually the filming on my current project shut down for a little bit, so I thought I'd take a little vacation and come home to visit."

"Are you going to be okay Dear Girl?" her grandfather asked. Rory held back a laugh, she loved that despite being a successful actress for over half of her life, her grandparents still worried about her financial situation.

"I'm fine Grandpa, but thanks for asking."

"So how about coming to dinner tonight?" Emily asked.

"That sounds wonderful Grandma," she admitted.

"Wonderful. 6:00 then. Will you be bringing your father?" Emily asked.

Rory stalled for a moment, biting her lip, trying to determine what to say. "It'll just be me Grandma, Dad has a late meeting at work."

"All right then," Richard started, "we'll see you at 6:00."

She hit End Call on her phone, and sank into a nearby chair. She really wished family relations could be easier. It wasn't that her father had any issues with her grandparents. They got along fine. He just never, ever, went to their house. Rory remembered visiting them when she was younger. He would drop her off at the end of the driveway, and they would return her to his house at the end of the visit. As a child she didn't understand, but now, she could see that being in their house was just too much for him to handle. Too many reminders of Lorelai for him to bear.

She picked up her phone again, and dialed her other grandmother. This call was much easier, and she quickly set up an afternoon tea time.

After figuring out her plans for the afternoon, she decided to take a few minutes and call Marty.

"Are you okay?" he answered on the first ring. "You didn't call me yesterday!"

Rory stifled a laugh. "I'm fine. Last night was just a little overwhelming and I forgot. I'm sorry."

"So what happened?" he asked curiously.

She relayed the details of last night to him in a bulleted list, hoping it wouldn't cause her to tear up just thinking about it. When she finished Marty sighed. "Wow."

"Yep."

"So…" he started, then stalled. "What are you planning for the rest of your trip?" He must have discarded is earlier thought, this wasn't a hard question.

"Let's see," she held up her fingers to tick items off the list, "Lunch with Lane at Luke's, tea with Grandma Francine, dinner with the Gilmores, and then this weekend, a trip to Atlantic City to watch Hep Alien."

"You're willingly going to Atlantic City, so close to-"

She cut him off. "Yep. I want to support Lane. I always miss her shows, and I'm not missing this one."

"Well alright," Marty hesitated, "call me if you need anything."

"Marty, I'll be fine," she told him firmly.

He was silent for a moment, and Rory could picture him sitting at his desk, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to choose the exactly right words for the situation. "If you say so," he finally said.

"I say so," she parroted.

She hung up the phone and stuck her tongue out at it. "Real mature Rory," she said aloud. She once again looked around the living room for something to do, but in the end, gave up and headed to the diner early.

She stepped out of the front door, locking it carefully behind her, then headed to her father's car. The door unlocked automatically as she approached, she opened the door and slid behind the wheel. She started the car and took a moment to adjust the seat and the mirrors. Rory adjusted the large sunglasses she was wearing and looked at herself in the rearview mirror. She was wearing jeans and a sweater with some classic Chucks and an old denim jacket she'd snitched from the coat closet in her father's house. She looked just like any other girl.

She drove the few blocks to the diner, and smiled as drivers passing by waved to her. They assumed she was her dad. Anonymity felt wonderful, even if it only lasted a few minutes. She pulled into an empty spot right in front of the diner, and climbed out of the car.

"Good morning Christopher," an older man called as she was standing up.

"Sorry, I'm not Christopher," she replied quietly.

"But that's his car!" the man exclaimed indignantly.

Rory chuckled, "And I'm his daughter, I promise, I got permission to borrow the car Sir."

The man looked her over curiously. "Little Rory Hayden? Is that you?"

"Yep," she popped her P slightly, and rocked back on her heels.

"Do you remember me? I'm Tay-"

She cut him off. "Taylor Doose!" she exclaimed. "Do you still have that ice cream shoppe?" She looked up and down the street for the familiar old-timey sign.

Taylor was shocked into silence that Rory remembered him. "Uh, I," he stammered, "the shop closed a few years back actually," he finally spit out.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said genuinely. "I have fond memories of that place."

Taylor smiled. "Your mother used to bring you in almost every day during the summer." Rory bit the inside of her lip and nodded. Taylor quickly changed the subject. "You're so grown up! I swear, if I hadn't seen you in the movies recently, I'd never have recognized you! Especially with that short hair."

Rory glanced down at her watch, "Well, I've got to meet a friend. It was nice to see you again Mr. Doose."

He stood there smiling as she walked into the diner.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Like her father's house, Luke's seemed to have hardly changed from her childhood memories. She glanced around the diner for Lane, but her friend had yet to arrive.

"Sit anywhere you'd like," someone called from the kitchen.

Rory selected a table near the wall, that allowed her to watch the door for Lane's arrival, but didn't put her sitting in front of the window so she was on display. She grabbed the menu from the stand against the wall and started perusing it. The chili fries looked good. She knew they weren't anywhere in the diet plan her nutritionist had come up with for her, but given recent unplanned weight loss she figured she could handle the extra calories.

"Can I get you something?" the voice from the kitchen was now standing right next to her.

Now she realized that the voice sounded familiar to her. "Jess?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?" he answered distractedly. She looked up at him to find that he wasn't looking in her direction at all, but watching some commotion in the street.

"I'll take the chili fries," she said. "And a coffee."

"Alright." He finally looked down at her. "Rory?"

"The one and only," she replied with a smile.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed as he pulled her out of her seat to hug her.

She clung to him as he lifted her off of her feet. "It's been a long time."

He set her back down. "No shit Sherlock!" he said. She laughed at the phrase she hadn't heard since their childhood.

"Keep digging Watson." The retort came spilling out of her mouth in a Pavlovian manner.

Jess laughed, and finally plopped down in the chair across from her. "How the hell have you been?"

She shrugged. "You can't tell me you don't know. You work in the media!"

He gave her a wry grin. "Yeah, I've also worked in the media long enough to know that what's printed is not always the truth… or at least not the whole truth," he added in defense of his profession.

"Well, some of it's true, most of it's not, and I'd rather not talk about it," she admitted. "Lane'll be here in a minute, can you join us for lunch?"

He glanced around the diner, it's wasn't very busy, the few patrons that were there were watching the reunion with eyes-agog. "There's nothing to see here!" he said gruffly.

"God you sound like Luke," Rory said quietly.

"Shut up!" he hissed, he was trying for angry, but she could see the smile playing on the corner of his lips. He watched again as the townspeople finally returned to their meals. "Yeah, I'll join you for lunch.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Lunch was just what Rory had hoped for. Good times with old friends. They laughed loudly as they reminisced about old times, and didn't really talk about their current lives.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tea with her grandmother was equally simple. She saw Francine on a regular basis, and other than commenting on her recent weight loss, her grandmother was happy to stick to lighter topics. As much as she hated to admit it, Francine loved celebrity gossip, and was content to spend her visit with Rory getting celebrity myths debunked. Rory was happy to oblige as it kept the focus off of her own life.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Dinner with the Gilmores was another story all together. Rory had remembered protocol, and gone back to her fathers to change into something her grandmother would hopefully deem dinner appropriate, a simple black dress with black ballet flats and a grey cashmere cardigan. She was striving for simple yet elegant. Apparently she didn't quite pull it off.

Emily pulled her into a hug the second she flung open the door. "Rory you look," and then she paused and backed up to examine her granddaughter, "well, given the circumstances, you look remarkably well."

Rory could tell her grandmother was doing her best not to tut over her appearance. "Hi Grandma," she said simply.

"Richard! Rory is here!" Emily called into the house.

"That's obvious Emily. There's no need for me to greet her at the door though, as you've already done that. Bring the girl into the living room and I can give her a hug and fix her a drink!"

Emily exhaled in an annoyed manner, but Rory smiled at her grandfather. She loved that it didn't matter to him how famous she was.

"Hi Grandpa," she said as she entered the living room.

"Hullo Rory. Martini?" he asked holding up a glass in her direction.

She took the proffered glass. "Thank you."

Richard put his now free arm around her and squeezed her close to him. "It's lovely to see you. You look more like your mother everyday."

She tried to ignore the telltale brightness in his eyes, and whispered "Thanks."

"So," Emily started as she perched herself on the edge of the couch, "What happened with you and that nice Huntzberger boy?"

Rory refrained from snarling at her grandmother, even though she so desperately wanted to. Wasn't there anything else to talk about? "It just ran its course Grandma," she explained as politely as she could without going into any details.

Emily looked poised to ask more questions, but her grandfather came to her rescue. "Leave the poor girl alone Emily, anyone with two eyes can see that it's still a sensitive subject for her!" She smiled at him gratefully. "So tell me about your newest project."

"Well," Rory was off and running, she gave them a brief plot synopsis, and told them about her character. They smiled and nodded as she talked. "But, it's been put on hold while the male lead goes to rehab," she finally finished.

Emily gasped, and Richard started to grumble about young people and their lack of respect for their responsibilities. All of this caused Rory to smile. Things seemed back to normal. Well, normal for a visit with the Gilmores.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter has hopefully returned the story to a slightly lighter tone… the next chapter will put Rory and Tristan at least in the same chapter, if not in direct contact with each other. <strong>

**Thank you for reading. Please review!**

**As usual I don't own it.**

**S**


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday morning found Rory again, waking up and falling out of her twin sized bed.

"Good morning Kid," her dad called with a chuckle.

Rory huffed and puffed, and climbed back into bed. "So glad I can amuse you," she shouted at him.

"Coffee's ready."

"You're forgiven." She pulled her sweater on and shuffled into the kitchen. This morning, however, instead of finding her dad in a suit, he was in ragged pajama pants and a frayed tee shirt. "Dad?" she asked, trying to determine whether she was hallucinating.

"Yeah?" he asked as he slid her coffee across the table.

"Just checking," she mumbled.

He gave her a quizzical look. "Did you think I lived in a suit?"

"No!" Not really, after all, she'd seen him in jeans just the day before. "I just didn't think you owned ratty pajamas."

"Sorry to disappoint."

They sat in silence and drank their coffee for a while.

Christopher cleared his throat finally, and Rory looked up at him. "So how was dinner with your grandparents?"

"Fine."

"Okay. What are your plans for today?" he tried a different subject.

She thought about it for a moment, taking another sip of her coffee and raking her hair back from her face. "I thought I'd just hang out until I had to go to the airport."

"The airport?" he said suddenly, bolting straight up in his seat. "I thought you were going to be here for a while, at least for your birthday! I made plans!"

"Calm down Dad. I will be here for a while. I just promised Lane I'd go to the Hep Alien show tonight, and flying seemed a lot faster than driving. I'll be back by midday tomorrow. We can still do whatever you have planned, I promise."

A sad look crossed his face, and suddenly Rory had an inkling of what his plans entailed, and honestly, she wanted no part of it. He seemed to push past it quickly though. "Alright. I was thinking dinner with your Grandmother."

"That sounds fine. Here or there?" she asked.

"Here I think. I was going to book a table somewhere, but that's just inviting attention and I know you don't really want that right now."

Rory nodded, and tried to smile. He thought she didn't want birthday attention right now? She never wanted birthday attention. She would be so much happier if she'd been born on February 29th so she only had to deal with it every 4 years.

"Where's Lane playing?" he asked.

"Some club called The Red Light. It's no big deal. It's just an unadvertised show, only for those in the know," she repeated what Lane had told her.

Her father smiled tightly. "Sounds cool. Have fun." She knew if it were up to him, she'd be locked in her room for the whole of her birthday, just so nothing would happen to her.

"It'll be fine Dad. I promise." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Then to lighten the mood, she sniffed like she smelled something foul. She leaned closer to him, and sniffed again, then leaned back and sniffed at herself. "Whoooo. Something stinks. It must be me. I'm gonna hit the showers."

Christopher's smile relaxed a little as his daughter stood up. She gave him a goofy grin, and he watched as she headed off to the bathroom.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Dad?" Rory hollered from her bedroom. "Do you have a carry on I can borrow?"

"Sure thing!" he shouted back, and a minute or two later he carried it into the room and set it on the bed.

"Thanks. I don't want to take my whole suitcase, but I can't fit enough in my shoulder bag."

He looked at the clothes strewn around the room. "You've only been home for a few days and yet somehow it seems like you never left." She elbowed at him, and laughed as he dodged out of her way. "Need help packing?"

She thought about it for a second. "Not unless you can help me find something that looks cool yet casual, and somehow manages to not make me look like a skeleton."

He took a giant step backwards. "Sorry Kid, you're on your own. Remember skeletal is very rock star; I'm sure you'll be fine."

Rory smiled as her father almost ran from the room. She finally settled on slacks and a sweater for the plane ride, and a vintage rock tee with her True Religion jeans, the stiletto boots again, and a long scarf to be tied around her waist a la Steven Tyler for the concert. With the dangly silver jewelry Paris had given her last Christmas, it should be just enough to be considered Rock Chic. And hopefully, since it was supposed to be a surprise show, the press wouldn't get wind of it.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory stepped off the plane in Newark and headed for the taxi queue in the most inconspicuous manner she could manage. Head held high, she just kept walking. If she acted confident enough maybe everyone would assume she was just trying to be Rory Gilmore, and ignore her. It worked, until she had to stand in the tax queue. As she stood in line she started to fidget, and somehow that made the people around her notice her.

The hushed whispers started, and she could feel everyone's eyes focusing on her, people looking at her, but trying hard not to openly stare. Finally the person in front of her spoke to her. "You're Rory Gilmore right?" she asked.

Not wanting to lie, knowing it would come back to haunt her if she did, she nodded.

"Oh. My. God!" the woman squealed. "I just knew it was you!" This outburst caused the surrounding crowd to begin openly staring at her. "What are you doing in New Jersey?" she asked as though she had a right to know.

"Just hanging out with some friends," Rory replied, hoping that answer made her sound like any other girl, and didn't divulge too much information.

This caused the woman to squeal again. "Who else is in town?" she asked, grabbing Rory's arm as though they were the dearest of friends and Rory was withholding information merely to torture her.

Rory chuckled and tried to politely free herself from the woman's grasp. "Well, Lane invited me, and I have no clue whom else she invited along." The answer was truthful, and Rory just mentally crossed her fingers that the woman wasn't one of those stalker types who knew everything about her from her shoe size to who all of her friends were.

"Oh cool," the woman said. This one seemed to be just an average fan. She found that the stalker types had to demonstrate just how much they knew about the objects of their obsession. "Hey, could I get your autograph?"

"Sure."

"Could you make it out to Anna?"

The line moved forward as Rory signed a recent copy of People Magazine for the woman. She tried not to outwardly grimace as she signed the picture of herself, Marty and Tristan from the bistro in Beverly Hills. "Here you go," Rory said as she handed the magazine back.

"Thanks!" Anna leaned in closely and lowered her voice, "So tell me is Tristan DuGrey really the bad boy the press always makes him out to be?"

The question caught her off guard. She didn't know how to answer it. The whole world thought she and Tristan were friends, or at least that they had been at one point. No one really knew how acrimonious their relationship was. Anna waited expectantly for an answer. "Bad is often in the eye of the beholder," she finally said, adding a smile she knew came across as both knowing and mischievous all at once.

"Next!" the porter yelled, and Rory realized she was almost to the front of the line.

"Anna, I believe this cab is yours," Rory said politely, pointing to the waiting cab.

"Oh you take it! I can wait another minute or two," Anna professed.

"Thanks," Rory said with a genuine smile. She slid past Anna and into the waiting cab.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Where to love?" the driver asked.

She fumbled with her phone for a moment, trying to find the name of the hotel Lane had texted to her earlier. "The Trump Taj Mahal," she said when she finally found the message.

Rory leaned back against the seat and watched out the window as the sights of New Jersey flew by.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan stepped off the airplane at Newark airport. At least New Jersey was better than Connecticut. He strode confidently through the airport headed to the car service. He hadn't really bothered with any sort of disguise, merely a baseball cap covering his blond locks. The only person that looked at him twice was the woman who opened the door of the town car for him, but the look wasn't one of recognition. It was simply one of attraction. Tristan got those looks a lot. He was a good looking guy and he knew it. Even though he didn't have people banging down his doors trying to attach him to their projects, he had plenty of women trying to share his bed.

"Where to?" the driver asked as Tristan settled into the back seat.

"Trump Taj Mahal."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory looked around the lobby as she entered the hotel. She couldn't believe how opulent it was. She pulled her small carry on bag over to the check in desk.

"Hi," she said, to get the woman's attention. "I'm here to check in."

The woman looked up at her, her eyes widening with recognition. "Of course." She reached for an envelope that contained the room keys. "Your room has already been paid for. You're in one of the Regal Suites on the 44th floor. Room 4425. It's a lovely ocean view. Please call us if you need anything."

"Thank you." She smiled. Lane thought of everything. Rory took the keys from the concierge and headed towards the elevator bank.

As soon as she was in her room she dialed Lane. "This is amazing!" she started, not even greeting her friend with a proper hello. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know," Lane replied. "But I wanted to. Meet us for dinner at 8?"

Rory glanced out the window, taking a moment to appreciate the view of the Atlantic Ocean and the Boardwalk below. "Where?"

"Il Mulino. We've got reservations under the name Helen Pai."

Rory chuckled at the anagram of Hep Alien. "Who all is going to be there?"

Lane hesitated for a moment before answering, and Rory suddenly became wary. "Well, you, me, Zack, Brian, and Gil," she named off her bandmates in a rush, "Paris, Finn and Colin."

"Finn and Colin? Lane!" Rory exclaimed, as she let out an exasperated sigh.

"I know, I'm sorry." Rory pouted for a moment, and Lane continued. "Zack invited them before I could stop him."

She had no problems with Finn and Colin per se, just that they were Logan's best friends, and typically, where one went, the others followed. "Well, far be it for me to deny the stooges their fun, but promise me that Logan won't be there."

"Logan will not be there," Lane confirmed. "He was definitely not invited to dinner, and to my knowledge, he's not even on this coast at the moment."

Rory moaned. "I've become that girl! I never wanted to be that girl. The one that can't be anywhere near her ex and throws a fit if he's there."

"You're not that girl Rory. I promise. You just don't want to be caught off guard. After all you've been through recently, I totally get that," her best friend reassured her.

"Thanks Lane. You're the best. I think I'm going to take a little time to enjoy my sweet suite, and I'll see you at dinner."

"See you there."

Rory took a few moments to unpack her clothes, hanging the ones that could wrinkle in the closet before she stepped out on the balcony to further examine the view.

The smell of fried food and the fresh ocean air filled her nose, and she pulled her sweater around her just a little tighter to ward off the chill of the breeze. She watched the people below wandering the boardwalk, wondering where they were headed, and wishing that she could do that. Just wander around aimlessly for a while. She took a deep breath, and exhaled. She repeated the motion, counting as she breathed in and out like her yoga instructor taught her. _ I can do this, _she thought, _I can do this._

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan approached the concierge counter and waited impatiently for the clerk to help him. He soon began to rap his fingers on the counter. When she finally looked up, he gave her his most charming smile.

"What can I do for you Sir?" the woman asked.

"Checking in. Reservations for DuGrey," he told her with a wink.

She recognized him and blushed furiously at his attentions. "Of course Mr. DuGrey, here you are," she said as she glanced up from the computer screen. "You've got a Chairman Tower Room on the 36th floor. Room 3618."

He held out his hand for the keys. "Great." He paused and looked around the lobby quickly. "Has Rory Gilmore checked in yet?"

"I can't give out that kind of information," she said loudly, as she clicked away at her keyboard. She leaned towards him slightly, "But since you're friends and all, I can tell you, she's not registered here."

Tristan frowned slightly, this is where Paris had said they were all staying, but then an errant thought hit him. "Has Molly Taylor checked in?" he asked quietly.

The clicking at the keyboard resumed. The woman returned her attention him after a minute or so. "She's on the 44th floor," she whispered with grin.

"Thanks for all of your help." He picked up his suitcase and headed toward the elevators.

"Enjoy your stay at the Trump Taj Mahal," she called after him.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan wandered around his hotel room for a minute or two trying to come up with a plan. Paris had told him they were meeting for dinner at 8, and invited him to join them, but he really didn't want to go. He may want to torture Rory Gilmore for his own entertainment, but he preferred to do it in a place where he could leave the situation at any time. The dinner table was not that place, so he decided he'd just wait for the show. In the meantime, he'd hit the casino floor for a little fun of his own.

He tossed his baseball cap onto the chair and pulled the sweater he was wearing over his head. He slid his arms into a pinstriped button down shirt with French cuffs, and buttoned it to almost the top, leaving it purposefully untucked. He traded his faded comfortable Levis for a pair of dark washed, yet distressed, Diesels, and sat down to put on his Dolce and Gabbana boots. Usually he didn't care about what he wore, but on the off chance he ended up having his evening forever memorialized, he wanted to look good.

By the time he finished removing all traces of 'hat head' from his hair, it was a quarter after eight. Decidedly too late to join Paris for dinner. The show started at 10, so he had almost two hours to kill. He pocketed his room key and headed for the casino floor, hoping to find a poker game and use his celebrity status to bluff his way to winning a few decent pots.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Dinner found Rory wedged between Paris and Lane, and sitting across from Colin and Finn. She struggled to make conversation with those around her, and wished for a moment that she'd just ordered room service. Lane was distracted by her upcoming performance. No matter how many times Hep Alien had performed, she still had preshow jitters. Paris was also distracted, and Rory couldn't figure out why. She'd met Paris on the set of Molly's World, along with Marty and Tristan. She played Summer Blankenship, Molly's self-imagined rival: the girl who actually had Chad Michaels attentions and affections. As Paris looked at the door for what Rory counted to be the eighth time, she finally broke down and asked. "Paris, what's going on? Are you waiting for someone?"

"No, of course not," Paris said quickly. "I just can't seem to get my mind off my most recent project. I'm stuck on a scene." Like Marty, after Molly's World, Paris had shifted her focus from acting to something off camera. She was currently adapting a bestselling novel into a screenplay. She was also lying through her pearly white teeth. Rory had known Paris Gellar a long time, and had she truly been stuck, she'd be talking to herself, and frantically scribbling notes on whatever was handy.

This left conversation with Colin and Finn. Colin and Finn were Logan's buddies from his action hero days. In the four years Rory dated Logan, she got to know them very well, and for the most part she enjoyed their company. Finn was always a riot and Colin was usually running behind him, trying to do damage control. Conversations with them usually involved hearing about their romantic entanglements, which were always funny, and stories that started 'this one time at…'. It was those stories Rory was trying to avoid, they usually involved Logan as well as the two of them and she really didn't want to hear his name right now.

But being the trooper she was, Rory dived right into a conversation. "So, Finn, what's new?"

"Not much Love," he replied. "Just working on the new Bryan Singer film. Something about aliens. All I know is I get to fire lots of weapons and jump out of a window of a burning building. It's like… hey Colin, what was that movie we did in South America, you know where Logan got that horrible case of 'the flu'…" he used air quotes around the word.

Colin gave him a dirty look, which Rory could clearly read as 'ix-nay on the ogan-Lay'. "It was Guerillas in the Mist," he answered. "You know, it was the film where you broke your nose…" Colin trailed off as Finn turned bright red. Rory watched the byplay amused. As long as she'd known Finn, she'd never seen him embarrassed.

"How did Finn break his nose?' she asked, eager for an answer. She watched the friends exchange looks and have a silent conversation about whether to tell her the story or not.

"I was defending the honor of a lady," Finn said finally.

Colin snorted. "Liar! You were not! A midget punched you in the face for trying to hit on his girlfriend!"

Rory laughed. "How did a midget reach your nose?"

"He climbed on a bar stool," Finn admitted.

"And you couldn't get out of his reach?" Rory asked as Colin started furiously making the 'don't go there' gesture.

Finn started to sputter indignantly and Rory and Colin both laughed loudly. Rory laughed for such a long time that tears began running down her cheeks, and she started gasping for breath.

"It's not that funny!" Finn said sternly.

"Sorry Finn," she said, as she wiped her tears and tried to calm her breathing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Here's the next installment. I hope you've enjoyed! If you have, please take a moment to leave a review. If you haven't please feel free to leave that in a review as well!<strong>

**As usual I don't own any of it. I completely made up Guerrillas In The Mist, and I have no clue what the current Bryan Singer project is. However, Trump Taj Mahal is real, as are the Chairman Tower Rooms and Regal Suites… if you look, Rory's room is WAY BETTER than Tristan's. **

**Next chapter will find Rory and Tristan in the same place at the same time! Finally! **

**Thanks for reading. I truly love getting those little Story Alert, Story Favorite, and Review Alert emails. Please review!**

**S**


	7. Chapter 7

Rory woke up in a haze. She could feel a strong arm clamped around her stomach, and she moved slightly to snuggle into the warm body behind her. It was at that point that her brain engaged, and she realized she had no idea who she was in bed with. Her stomach lurched and she threw the strange arm off of her and launched herself out of bed. She found her way to the bathroom and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.

Once her stomach was sufficiently empty, she moved to sit back down against the wall, not quite trusting her stomach enough to leave the bathroom. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened the night before.

She remembered having dinner with her friends, and after that they went to The Red Light, where Hep Alien took the stage. Rory remembered mingling with people, most of whom were some type of celebrity, or celebrity groupie enough to get themselves on the list at the door. Colin introduced her to his friend Brad, who was a rookie with the New York Yankees this past year. She remembered talking to Brad for a while, having drinks and dancing. Then Tristan showed up. She sighed at the thought. She remembered making small talk with him for a while (really trading insults)… but nothing after that.

_Oh dear God! Please let the man in the bed be Brad_. She raked her hands through her hair pulling it away from her face.

"Ouch!" she muttered as she ran her hands through her hair. Something scraped her skin. She pulled her hands out of her hair to examine them. _What the crispy fuck is that?_ She moved her hand closer to her face. There was a diamond solitaire on her left ring finger. At least it looked like a diamond. Rory pushed herself forward just in time to let the remaining contents of her stomach make their acquaintance with the toilet bowl.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan woke up to the sound of someone throwing up nearby. He wondered whom he'd brought back to his hotel last night. He thought he was past that stage of his life: it had been at least two years since he'd had a one-night stand. He hadn't had a slew of long-term relationships, but most of his relationships lasted a month or two anymore. He shrugged. Hopefully whoever she was would get her stuff and go back to her own room quickly.

He stretched, and opened his eyes. The bright sun was shining in the window lighting up the room. His eyes burned. As he looked around the room through his squinted eyes he realized it didn't look like his room. He had a garden view, and this one clearly had an ocean view. Maybe he would be the one to grab his stuff and go. He would at least wait until she was done throwing up. He might still be a bit of a cad, but he wasn't going to sneak out. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The movement caused his stomach to turn over. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands, trying to breathe through the nausea.

_What the hell had he done last night?_ As a seasoned drinker, Tristan rarely suffered a hangover. Sure he drank a lot less than he used to, but he didn't remember drinking all that much last night. Really he didn't remember much at all. He tried to focus and remember what had happened the night before. He remembered winning some money at poker, and heading over to The Red Light. He remembered the loud music, and dancing with several hot women he didn't know. He remembered finding Rory trying to chat up a baseball player. He remembered the look of annoyance on her face as he sidled up to her and threw his arm around her shoulder. Since the world at large thought they were friends, or at least friendly, there was no way she could react poorly to his presence. He remembered picking at her and teasing her over drinks… and then nothing.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

After she was sure she had nothing left to throw up Rory got up gingerly and went to the sink. She washed her face in cool water, hoping to calm down a little, then headed back into her room, hoping that the man sleeping in her bed would provide a simple explanation. Preferably that the whole thing was a joke.

She peeked out the bathroom door and saw a tall blond sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. She could no longer remember if Brad had been a blond. She ducked back into the bathroom quickly to put on one of the plush robes she'd seen hanging on the back of the door. Then she eased into the bedroom and pulled the door shut behind her. He looked up at the noise.

"No!" she shouted.

"Shhhh," he replied. "My head is killing me."

"No. No way!" she exclaimed again, not quite as loudly. "What are you doing here?"

Before she could get an answer, he sprung up from the bed and darted into the bathroom, where she could hear him vomit profusely.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

He wrenched the lid of the toilet up and proceeded to occupy the position Rory had recently vacated. _How the hell did he end up sleeping with Rory Gilmore?_

He wasn't in there very long before the pounding started. _Knock, knock, knock_. "Tristan! What the hell happened last night?" Rory shouted at him through the door.

"Ughn," he moaned.

"Hurry up!"

Tristan pushed himself into a standing position. "You got your time to puke, give me mine!" he growled.

He heard her sigh, before she finally said, "Fine." He could picture her standing on the outside of the door tapping her foot impatiently.

Like Rory had not moments before, he turned on the sink to splash some cool water on his face. He grabbed a nearby towel to dry his face, and wrapped it around his waist when he was done.

He exited the bathroom with his hands up in a truce position. "I'll answer your questions if you refrain from shouting."

Rory was agitated, anyone could see that, but after a moment she nodded in agreement. "What happened last night?"

"I don't remember," he answered honestly.

She began to pace back and forth.

"What's the big deal? So we slept together. I know it wasn't high on my list of things to do, but it's not the end of the world."

She pointed at his left hand, and went back to pacing. He looked down to find a wide silver band on his left ring finger. "What the fuck!" he yelled.

"Hey, you said no yelling!" Rory reminded him.

"Actually, I said no shouting," he argued out of habit.

"Please, tell me this is a joke; some elaborate shrek. I'll even congratulate you instead of being pissed off."

Tristan shook his head, and began to grab his clothes that had been scattered around the floor. He pulled the jeans on and then dropped the towel. As he was buttoning the fly he heard the telltale sound of crinkling paper. There was a wodge of paper stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans. He extracted it, and began to unfold it. _Certificate of Marriage._ He could feel the blood leaving his face, and he staggered backwards to collapse into a nearby chair.

"What? What is that?" Rory asked impatiently.

Instead of answering her, he merely offered the piece of paper and watched the color drain from her face as she read it.

"How is this possible? I thought there were laws about letting drunk people get married!" she exclaimed indignantly.

He raised one shoulder in a half shrug. "First, I think those laws are in Las Vegas, not here, and second, we're celebrities, there's always someone willing to break the rules for us."

"Either way, I want to talk to this," she paused as she glanced down at the paper, "Reverend Moonbeam."

Rory finally stopped pacing and flopped backwards onto the bed. "I was married by a Reverend Moonbeam. This has got to be a joke."

"If it is, it's not a very funny one," Tristan said dryly. "And if it's not… well, it's a prime case of an annulment."

Rory sat up and her eyes lit up. "An annulment, no one will ever know!" her voice was filled with awe.

Tristan nodded in agreement. "I'm going to my room to shower and change my clothes, and then I'll come back and we can go talk to this Reverend Moonbeam and find out if this is even real."

"Thanks."

He stood up and pulled on his shirt and shoes from last night, grimacing at the sweaty shirt. He did not miss the walk of shame.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory climbed into the shower as soon as Tristan left hoping the hot water would wash away the lingering tinges of her hangover. While she still felt mildly shitty, having clean hair made her feel more human, and the orange-ginseng body wash did help her to feel a little more alert.

She wrapped the towel around herself and returned to the bedroom to get dressed. She flicked on the TV so she could listen to the news while she dressed. The majority of her clothes were still in her suitcase, so she tossed it on the bed and opened it up. There wasn't much choice in what she could wear, so she pulled out a clean bra and panties and then went to find her wrap dress in the closet.

_Apparently some things don't fade with time. No, that's not a scene from a Molly's World reunion episode, it's Tristan DuGrey and Rory Gilmore exiting The Chapel O' Love in the wee hours of the morning this morning. That's right, little Molly Taylor finally got her dearest wish… she's Mrs. Chad Michaels!_

Rory dropped her dress and dashed over to the television to see the image. There they were, coming out of the wedding chapel with big smiles, holding hands.

Rory sank down on to the bed. She and Tristan were married. She got married in jeans and a tee shirt. She got married by Reverend Moonbeam. She got married on her birthday. At that last thought she promptly burst into tears.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

She was still crying when she heard a knock at the door. Since she never managed to get dressed, she re-wrapped herself in her towel and went to answer the door.

"Hey," Tristan said as he came through the door. "I brought us some coffee."

"Thanks," she whispered hoarsely.

"Why aren't you dressed? We've got to go see the Moonbeam."

Rory nervously adjusted her towel. "We made the news."

"Excuse me?" His eyebrow shot up in confusion.

She grabbed her smart phone off the nightstand to Google the video clip and noticed she had about 50 missed calls and text messages. Oh well. One thing at a time. Sure the clip had only aired 20 minutes earlier, but the news outfit had it posted on its website. She waited for the clip to load, then handed her phone to Tristan. While he watched, she snagged her dress off the floor and went into the bathroom to put it on.

When she came out Tristan was watching the footage a second time. He heard her and looked up. "So I guess no one knowing is out of the question."

"So is the annulment," she sullenly.

"Excuse me?" Tristan didn't see the connection between the two. "Well I guess I can call my lawyer and we can get started on a divorce then."

"No!"

Tristan looked at her. "Annulment or divorce. I'm not seeing another option here Rory."

She walked across the room and took her phone back from him. "Just hear me out…"

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"You want us to stay married?" he shouted, finally grasping what she was getting at.

"Not forever," she assured him.

He stood up and began to pace. "Are you crazy?"

She shook her head no.

"You hate me!" he reminded her. "And I hate you," he added for good measure in case she didn't know.

"I'll make it worth your while," she said.

"I'm not for sale," he said angrily.

Rory snorted at his comment, and it angered him even more. He grabbed his phone and started to dial his attorney. Rory grabbed it out of his hands, and before he could catch her, she opened the balcony door and chucked it over the edge.

Tristan saw red. "You are crazy! You could have hurt somebody!"

"I looked first," she lied. "And I'm not crazy."

"If it's not crazy to stay married to someone you hate, I don't know what is."

Rory returned to the sitting area and dropped into a chair. "If you stop pacing I'll explain it to you."

"Starting with why divorce and annulment aren't valid options."

"Sure thing," she replied, and he could tell she was just placating him.

Tristan sat in the chair across from her, but couldn't bring himself to relax. He was on the edge of his seat, ready to make a dash for the door so he could get to a phone and call his lawyer.

"So you've seen the spectacle that my life has been lately right?" she asked.

He smirked. "Relevance?"

"Just answer the question."

"Yes, I've seen the spectacle. I've been enjoying all of your antics."

She gave him a look that was supposed to explain it all, but it didn't. "This is going to be tabloid fodder for months. 'Grief stricken Gilmore ties the knot in Atlantic City, only to have the marriage annulled 48 hours later, breaking the previous record of 55 hours held by Britney Spears!'"

Tristan cracked up. He couldn't help it.

"It's not funny! The press practically has me on a suicide watch! This will just add fuel to the fire."

He reined in his laughter. "Okay, I see why an annulment won't work now that everyone knows. But what about a divorce?"

"If we start it right now, people will be able to do the math. It becomes public record, and you know it'll be all over the papers that we didn't even wait a week to start divorce proceedings."

"Won't we be tabloid fodder already?" he reused her earlier phrase, "We hate each other!"

The look she gave him clearly said _duh! _ "They don't know that."

He cocked a quizzical eyebrow at her.

"You know I hate you, I know you hate me – though I don't really know why, but the general public has no idea that we hate each other."

He thought about it for a minute. She'd never said a bad word about him to the press, and he'd never really had an opportunity to talk about her. "What about our friends and families?"

"My friends will say no comment until they hear from me, and then they'll say what I ask them to." The look she gave him was a challenging one. How trustworthy were his friends?

"Mine will too," he shot back.

"And my family… well, they'll get over it as long as they think it's real."

He couldn't believe he was seriously considering her proposition. "What's in it for me? And how long would we have to fake it?"

She raised her hand to her rub her chin while she thought about his question. Finally she looked up and caught his eye. "$75,000 a month. We stay together for a year, then you'll get palimony of $25,000 a month for the next year."

Suddenly the room began to spin. Tristan pushed himself out of the chair. "I need to get some air and think about this," he told her as he headed for the door.

"Wait!" she screeched, as she ran for the door throwing herself in front of it.

"You can't hold me hostage Rory," he said as he put his hands on her shoulders to move her out of his way.

She sighed and struggled under his grip. "I'm not trying to hold you hostage, I just wanted to ask a favor."

"What?"

"If you decide not to agree with my plan, please don't tell the press before you tell me."

He looked down at the woman in his grasp, and for an instant he saw Rory Gilmore the woman, not Rory Gilmore his enemy. She looked vulnerable and genuinely scared. "I promise, I'll tell you what I decide first."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Dun, dun, dun… So there you have it. Now the question is: Should Tristan say yes to Rory's proposition? <strong>

**What's coming up? Well, Rory has to deal with her 50 missed phone calls and texts… and Tristan, well, he has some thinking to do. Oh and we have the small matter of the fact that it's Rory's birthday to deal with. **

**As usual, I don't own it! Please review and let me know what you think!**

**Thanks for reading.**

**S**


	8. Chapter 8

Rory watched the door close as Tristan left and immediately began to pace. She wanted to ask him when he'd be back, but figured that would have been just too wifely in the present situation. So instead, she paced. After making five or six laps around her suite, she finally decided to check her phone.

_Text Message: Lane Kim 12:45 am. Happy Birthday Girl! I know you hate it, but we still want to celebrate you a little bit. Where did you go?_

_Text Message: Paris Geller 1:15 am. Happy Birthday Rory. Where are you? Are you pissed at Lane? She knows she shouldn't have played you an impromptu Happy Birthday, but seriously it's not the end of the world, and you told her you were fine. _

Hep Alien played Happy Birthday for her? She shook her head; she had no recollection of that at all.

_Text Message: Finn Morgan 1:22 am. Love, where are you? I've lost my shirt at the craps table. Literally. Could you bring me another one? _She smiled at Finn's message. What a goof ball!

_Text Message: Lane Kim 1:34 am. Seriously. Where are you? I'm getting worried. Last I saw you were headed to the blackjack tables with Tristan, something about playing 21 at midnight… _Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. This was not good.

_Text Message: Colin McCrae 1:43 am. Have you seen Finn? I've got his shirt and I'm trying to find him. I do NOT want to get kicked out of Atlantic City!_

_Text Message: Colin McCrae 1:44 am. Oh yeah. Happy Birthday!_

_Missed Call: Paris Geller 1:58 am. RORY! Where are you? No one has seen you in more than two hours. We're starting to get worried. This is very irresponsible of you! I hope you're okay. Also, is your stunt double in town? I swear I just saw her getting into an elevator sucking face with DuGrey. I KNOW that was not you! Call me back. _

Rory cringed as Paris's voice yelled at her. And she was seen kissing Tristan. Thank God she didn't remember that.

_Missed Call: Lane Kim 2:30 am. I'm really worried that I haven't seen you in a while. I hope you just went up to your room and passed out. Call me when you get this, I don't care what time. _

The concern in Lane's voice was almost worse than Paris's yelling. She needed to call her best friend. But she needed to get through the rest of these first.

_Text Message: Logan Huntzberger 3:00 am. Happy Birthday Ace. I hope it's a good one. _Rory frowned. Of course Logan remembered her birthday, and had to text her exactly at midnight his time….

There was a four hour gap before the texting started up again.

_Text Message: Christopher Hayden 7:02 am. Happy Birthday Rory! Your Grandmother will be here at 7:00 for dinner. We're having Italian. Love you. _

_Missed Call: Francine Hayden 7:42 am. Hello Rory, it's your Grandmother. I just wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday. I know this day is hard for you, but your mother is looking down on you and watching over you. I hope your day goes okay, and I'll see you tonight for dinner. _Francine's message brought tears to her eyes. "Sorry you had to see all this Mom," she said to the heavens.

There were about 20 or so random text messages from various friends of hers in LA wishing her happy birthday, mixed in with all the rest. Making the ones she had to deal with way less daunting.

_Missed Call: Emily Gilmore 9:01 am. Happy Birthday Rory! We love you. _Her grandparents sang into the phone together.

_Text Message: Paris Gellar 9:11 am. Seriously Gilmore. You're starting to piss me off. At least let someone know you're still alive!_

_Text Message: Finn Morgan 9:14 am. Happy Birthday Love. Fancy getting breakfast? _The thought of breakfast made her stomach roll. She looked at the current timestamp on her phone 11:44. She should at least drink the coffee Tristan brought her.

_Text Message: Lane Kim 9:22 am. Are you okay? _

_Text Message: Paris Gellar 10:01 am. Apparently that WAS you I saw in the lobby last night! You married Tristan DuGrey. What the hell Rory? Tell me this is some sort of joke. _

_Text Message: Marty Harrison 10:03 am. Happy Birthday Rory. Hope it's a happy one. I've got your present all wrapped up and ready for you when you get home. _

_Missed Call: Lane Kim 10:07 am. Rory, I just ran into a reporter while getting my coffee, asking for a comment on your marriage to Tristan. I said 'No Comment' but what the fuck is going on? Call me ASAP. _ Oh no.

_Missed Call: Finn Morgan 10:22 am. So I guess breakfast is a no. I suppose you don't want to leave your man candy long enough to hang out with your friends. Understandable. Cheers!_ Leave it to Finn not even think something was awry.

_Text Message: Colin McCrae 10:25 am. I guess congratulations are in order? I didn't realize you and Logan were in a race to the altar, but you clearly won. _Ouch.

_Missed Call: Marty Harrison 10:42 am. YOU MARRIED TRISTAN DUGREY. Are you insane? YOU HATE HIM! Call me back as soon as possible. This has to be a joke or a publicity stunt or something, right? _ Crap, crap, crap. Rory stood up and began to pace.

_Missed Call: Christopher Hayden 11:03 am. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore Hayden, you call me back right this instant. How dare you get married without even telling me! What is going on? Is this some kind of elaborate joke you and your friends have concocted to give me a heart attack?_ Her dad was yelling at her. He hadn't yelled at her since she was a small child. After her mother died, just an inkling of disappointment in his eyes was enough to keep her on the straight and narrow.

_Missed Call: BLOCKED NUMBER 11:08 am. Yes hello Ms. Gilmore, or should I say Mrs. DuGrey, this is Max Hunter with People Magazine, your press agent gave me your direct number… anyhow I was wondering if you'd like to set up a time for an interview. Call me back at (555) 555-1008. _ Her press agent gave out her direct number? Someone was so getting fired for this!

_Missed Call: Abby Hamilton 11:09 am. Rory, the office is getting flooded with calls about your recent wedding to Tristan DuGrey. Please call me back so I can set up a press release or something! Also, the new girl gave your phone number to a guy at People. Don't worry, I already fired her. _

_Missed Call: Logan Huntzberger 11:12 am. Geez Ace, I knew you wanted to get married, but I didn't know you wanted to get married this badly. This is just crazy. If you need anything, please call me. Fallon and I will do everything we can to help you out. _ Rory snorted. Like she'd ever willingly let Fallon McIntyre help her out.

She sat down at the nearby desk and grabbed a piece of paper to make a list. She was in a tight spot, she couldn't make any statements, even to her friends, until Tristan decided whether he was going to play along. She made a list of all of the people she needed to contact, starting with her press agent. Then she resigned herself to waiting. The only concession she made was texting Lane to let her know she was okay and she'd call with details later.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan stepped into the lobby of the hotel and was immediately bombarded by members of the Associated Press. "Tristan, over here!" he heard several call at once. He turned to face them. He couldn't very well turn around and get back in the elevator. Quickly he managed to tweak his expression from thoughtful to blissful.

"Hey guys!" he called as he walked towards them.

"Where's Rory?" one asked.

Tristan let his smile get a little bigger. "She's upstairs getting some much deserved rest." He added a salacious wink just to sell it. The men all laughed and the women blushed in embarrassment.

"So where are you going?" another asked.

He told them the first semi-believable thing he could think of. "I'm going to go get my wife some flowers."

He watched as several of the girls visibly melted in front of him. "Is that all you're getting her for her birthday?" one of the guys in the back called loudly.

Oh fuck! It was Rory's birthday? How did he not know that? "Of course not! What kind of cheapskate do you think I am? Her gift is waiting for her when we get home to LA." That sounded believable right?

"Will you tell us what it is?" a blonde right in front of him asked.

Tristan shook his head playfully. "No way! You guys can't keep secrets to save your lives. It would completely ruin the surprise!" They all smiled and chuckled at his comment. "Now, do you think you could let me through so I can hurry up and get back to my wife?"

Surprisingly, they all moved out of his way. Some of them even patted his shoulder in a congratulatory matter as he passed them.

He headed towards the boardwalk to walk down the beach. He'd have to stop and pick up some flowers on the way back, but that was easy to do.

As he walked along, he started thinking about Rory's proposition. He couldn't believe she would offer him 1.2 million dollars for a year of his life. Part of him was truly offended. Tristan DuGrey was not for sale.

He truly didn't understand why a divorce was such a big deal. He understood the scrutiny, who among them didn't? But was it really worth so much money, and so much time to avoid it? Maybe it was different for those at the top. A little more mud on his name wouldn't make much of a difference in his life. But Rory? Maybe it was time she got a little dirt on her pristine image. He smiled at the thought of her doing third rate movies. But before he could think about it too much, he remembered the look on her face when she asked him to please tell her his decision first.

Tristan mentally flipped through the tabloid images of her he'd seen recently, and thought back to the last time he'd seen her, that day on the ground outside of Christophe's. He wasn't sure he could stomach being the cause of some of the things he'd seen lately.

He needed to make a Pro/Con list. He went back to scanning the ground, hoping to find evidence of his phone. He looked up to see where he was in relation to the room. It was coming up on the left so he began to look a little closer for anything that could be phone debris. A flash of light caught his eye, and he moved closer to examine it. It was the screen of an iPhone that had been almost buried in the sand.

Tristan squatted down and picked up the phone. It was HIS iPhone. The screen was cracked, but the phone appeared to be functional. He slid the bar across the bottom and tapped in his code. Four missed calls and a few missed text messages.

_Text Message: _ _Paris Gellar 12:08 am. Where did you go? Are you coming back?_

_Text Message: Danica Marin 12:32 am. Hey Tristan, are you home? I was thinking I could drop by for a while ;) _

_Missed Call: Danica Marin 1:01 am. Hi! So, what's the deal, do you want me to come over? I know we broke up, but I miss you… call me back. _Ugh. Just what he needed right now, a crazy ex entering the fray.

_Text Message: Paris Gellar 2:02 am. I can't believe you picked up a girl that could be Gilmore's twin. You are twisted my friend. _Paris was going to kill him. Dead. Stabbed. Murdered. She'd begrudgingly given him the information about the Hep Alien concert in the name of friendship, but she'd made it perfectly clear that she thought it was time he let it go, and she wouldn't give him information again.

_Text Message: Danica Marin 3:38 am. Fine, be an asshole. Don't call me back. See if I care. _ He could feel the drama rising. Maybe Rory could help him out with Danica…

_Missed Call: Paris Gellar 10:02 am. What the fuck Tristan? Where are you guys? Call me back as soon as you get this. I can't believe… _Paris's message started to ramble, so he deleted it. At least he didn't have to worry about his friends finding out.

_Missed Call: Marcia DuGrey 10:18 am. Tristan, this is your mother. I can't believe we had to find out from reporters that you got married. I hope this isn't one of those shotgun weddings. We didn't even know you were seeing each other. Call me back, we should set up a lunch for when you get home. _ Oh no. His parents knew. Damn it! He began to pace back and forth on the sidewalk where he was listening to his messages.

_Text Message: Danica Marin 10:29 am. I can't believe you! You were sleeping with me while you were dating Rory Gilmore. What kind of scumbag are you? _Huh. That was a twist he hadn't expected. Would people believe that he and Rory were dating on the sly?

_Missed Call: Josh Marcus 11:32 am. Tristan, it's Josh. Why didn't you give me a heads up on this Gilmore thing? We need to get a press release out, so call me back. Congratulations! _

He deleted the messages, and checked the time, it was a little after noon, he'd probably been gone for about half an hour, and he needed to get back to his "bride". He didn't have a concrete answer as to what to do, but he figured he would wing it. He was an actor after all.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

He bought a large bouquet of wild flowers on his way back to the hotel. The roses seemed too tame, and that just didn't work for him. The trip through the lobby was uneventful, the press was still camped out, but the reporters did nothing more than snap his picture as he walked through carrying the flowers. He tried to keep a smile on his face that exuded 'I'm the happiest man on Earth', but he wasn't sure if he was pulling it off. Luckily, the elevator was in the lobby, and he managed to be the only one on it. He hit the button for 44, and began the ascent.

Tristan's phone vibrated as he exited the elevator. He pulled it out of his pocket just long enough to see that it was his mom again, and promptly hit the ignore button. He definitely needed a game plan before he could talk to her. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and strode confidently to the door.

He raised his hand to knock, and realized it would look really weird for him to knock on the door of his own room. He needed a reason for that. "Ro," he started, then stopped. He should have a nickname for his wife. Calling her Rory just seemed suspicious to him. Thinking back on passed relationships, he tried to recall what he'd called the girls. Or what they'd called him for that matter. Tris seemed popular. As did Babe, or Hon, and one girl even went as far a Sweetie Pie. She didn't last long. He smirked at the thought. Tristan usually stuck to Babe, but somehow that seemed too interchangeable for his 'wife'. And the names he usually called her, Mary and Goody-Goody, were completely inappropriate as there was no way they could be interpreted by anyone as sweet or flattering. Finally he just sucked it up and knocked. "Molly, it's me, I forgot my key!" he called.

Rory opened the door quickly. "Molly?" she mouthed at him. He shrugged. "Oh Chad," she said loudly in a patronizing tone. "What am I going to do with you?"

He entered the room, shutting the door behind himself, and held out the flowers to her. "Happy Birthday."

She took the flowers from him. "Thanks. How did you know?" She looked nervous. Why would her birthday be a secret?

"I remembered," he lied. Then before she could respond he corrected himself. "Actually the gaggle of reporters in the lobby reminded me."

"Of course." She set the flowers on the table. "Well thank you anyhow."

She began to pace, and he could tell she was anxiously awaiting his answer. She kept giving him meaningful glances.

"So?" Rory finally asked. The silence was killing her.

"I have a few questions about logistics," Tristan started.

"Does this mean…" she trailed off.

He looked at her, and the hopeful look on her face. "It means that I haven't rejected the idea completely yet."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So here you have it. A lot of what's going on when Tristan and Rory are completely out of it, as seen by their friends. <strong>

**As usual I don't own any of it. I am loving all of the alerts, favorites, and reviews! **

**Thank you so much! Please continue to read and review!**

**S**


	9. Chapter 9

Logistics. Rory could definitely handle logistics. Anything that wasn't a 'no' was workable. She knew that even a no would have to be workable, but she was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "What kind of logistics?" she asked, her voice squeaked a little.

"You know," Tristan started, "married things." The look on his face was one of pure lust and mischief.

She reached out and slapped his arm. "We are not having sex!" she hissed.

"We already did, and I'm sure we will again if you want us to maintain this charade for a year," he said in a seductive tone, "but, that wasn't really what I meant," he returned to his normal voice.

"Oh. What then?" Her body was feeling a little riotous at the thought of being in close proximity to him all the time, but never having sex with him. She may have hated him, but he was damn good looking. She forced herself to breathe, trying to calm down.

He smiled. "You know, little things. Where are we going to live? Who's going to pay for what? Every day stuff."

"Well since you brought it up, I figure you've already got some thoughts on the matter, so hit me with them."

"I want to live at my house. And I think you should pay for everything!"

She couldn't believe he would just announce such outrageous demands. "And why exactly would I go for that?" Rory asked.

Tristan smirked. "Simple. You want us to stay in this sham of a marriage for a year. I have nothing to lose."

She sputtered, trying to form a coherent sentence. Finally she landed on, "You may have nothing to lose, but you have the potential to gain a lot."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Aside from the money, what do I have to gain?"

"Your image. Right now, you're known as a bad boy that's hard to work with." He covered his heart with his hands as though he'd been shot. "Oh knock it off, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know! Anyhow, you're limited to B list movies and type cast as the Frat Boy… or now, the Aging Frat Boy."

"Ouch," he said coldly.

"Not done talking," she told him. "If you're married to me… well people will have to start to look at you different. Why would Rory Gilmore, America's Favorite Girl Next Door, marry a notoriously difficult bad boy?" She let him sit for a moment, as though she was pondering the thought herself. He gave her a look that clearly said _Well?_ "Obviously, it's because there's more to you than your bad boy persona."

Tristan snorted, and Rory threw her hands in the air.

"Look. It's a year. You spend the year playing the doting husband. Show up to events with me, and I'll show up to events with you. We'll be seen together in public, looking like blissful newlyweds. At the end of the year, we'll file for divorce, using the excuse that we've found we're better as friends. Hopefully by that time, we'll have spent enough time as a smug married couple that we'll be off the tabloid radar. You'll have an improved image and a hefty bank account, and my life can go back to normal."

Tristan thought about it. She could see the wheels turning in his head. "What about my conditions?"

Rory sighed. "Fine. We can live at your house, and I'll pay for everything. But in return, you don't get to pick and choose which stuff you attend with me. If I have to go to something, YOU have to go to something."

"Deal!" He stuck his hand out to shake hers. They shook and Rory smiled. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

"We'd better get packing. The plane leaves in an hour and half."

"What are you talking about? My flight to LA isn't until 8:00 tonight."

"You're not going back to LA just yet. I have to go back to Connecticut for birthday dinner with my Dad, therefore…" she trailed off, knowing he could draw the appropriate conclusion.

"Fuck!"

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

It didn't take much time to pack, and soon Tristan was heading through the lobby again. Only this time, Rory was tucked under his arm, and a bellman was following them with the luggage.

"Did you like your flowers Rory?" One of the reporters shouted trying to get her attention. While Tristan had adopted a happy yet eager look about him, Rory had gone for completely blissed out.

"I'm sorry, what did you ask?" she asked in a dreamy voice, barely tearing her eyes away from the ring on her hand that seemed to hold her focus.

The woman smiled and repeated her question. "Did you like the flowers?"

"Oh yes! Tristan is just so thoughtful!" Rory used the arm that was currently around Tristan's waist to give him a little squeeze.

Tristan in turn kissed the top of her head. "Only when it comes to you."

Rory forced herself to blush, and they continued on through the lobby to the car that the hotel had provided for them. The bellman loaded the bags into the trunk of the limo, while Tristan helped Rory into the car. He then tipped the bellman and climbed into the car himself.

"You owe me $20 for the tip," he whispered in her ear as he slid in next to her.

"Oh Tristan, you say the sweetest things," she said with a giggle as she snuggled into him. She caught the driver smiling, and then hit the button to raise the partition.

As soon as the partition hit the top she slid to the other side of the seat. "Seriously? Are you going to bill me for everything?"

"Well I'd just have you pay for it, but I bet that would make me look bad. So yes. I will just bill you for all of it."

Rory folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the door, staring out the window. Tristan watched her for a few moments, then gave up, and stared out his own window.

The car came to a stop at the departures drop off, and Tristan quickly got out of the car, not wanting the driver to open the door and find them sitting as far apart as possible, glaring out opposite windows. Rory stepped out behind him, and waited for the driver to remove the luggage from the trunk. Tristan tipped the driver, and they headed into the airport to check in.

"You're up to $40 now," he hissed through a smile.

They were holding hands pulling their carry ons behind them, so Rory merely used her thumb and index finger to pinch the web of his hand, feeling satisfied when his brow furrowed slightly and he glanced down at their joined hands.

Security was easy, as it usually was for celebrities. The only delay was when the woman checking their ids wanted to stop to examine Rory's ring. "Oh honey, this is gorgeous!" she cooed.

"Thank you," Rory said with a smile.

Once they were out of earshot, Rory turned to Tristan, "is it real?" She inclined her head towards her ring so he would know what she was talking about.

He shrugged. "I can't recall."

Rory sighed, she was sure she would find out when the credit card bill came.

The walk to the gate was short, and they had to spend a little time charming the boarding agent, persuading her that some one needed to be bumped from first class so they could sit together. And course they couldn't possibly have booked in advance, the wedding was spur of the moment.

Luckily, for a picture and a pair of autographs, Rory's prior seatmate was happy to take the coach seat that had been purchased for Tristan only an hour before.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

They sat side by side in first class; trying to look mad about each other, instead of mad at each other. "We should draft a joint press release," Rory said quietly. "I don't know about you, but my press agent was one of the many calls I missed this morning."

"Mine called too," Tristan said.

"So what do we say?" she asked.

Tristan sat still for a moment before leaning forward to pull his iPad from his bag under the seat. He started tapping away with Rory reading over his shoulder. He was noticeably tense, and Rory was pretty sure he wanted nothing more than to tell her to back off, but he reined it in, and managed to shift the iPad closer so she could read it too.

He'd jotted notes like, 'Always respected each other,' 'caught up reminiscing,' and 'right place at the right time, for once.' Rory added 'grew closer over the past few weeks,' and 'being there for each other in recent hard times'.

Tristan pointed to the last one, "That's a good one."

"Thanks. It really doesn't matter what it says, as long as it includes that we're blissfully happy."

"All electronic devices need to be turned off for take off," a voice came over the overhead. Tristan turned off the iPad and tucked it into the seat pocket.

"So who all is going to be at dinner tonight?" he asked curiously.

Rory frowned slightly before answering. "My dad and my grandmother."

"Your dad's mom or your mom's mom?"

"My dad's mom. He doesn't see my mom's parents if he can help it." She looked out the window instead of at him when she answered.

"Why not?"

"They remind him too much of her," she said quietly.

He didn't need to ask who _her _was. The legendary Lorelai Gilmore. She died long before Tristan had ever met Rory, but he'd seen her work and she was a comedic genius.

They sat back in their seats, silent as the plane took off.

"So where are we going to dinner?"

"No where."

Tristan leaned closer her. "What do you mean? You've dragged me to Connecticut," he spat the name of the state with distaste, "for dinner, only to tell me we aren't going to dinner."

Rory sighed and looked at him. "My dad is having it catered at his house. He didn't think I'd want the attention since Logan and I just broke up," she explained. "Not like I ever want that to celebrate my birthday," she added under her breath.

He looked at her quizzically. "Why not? We always celebrated your birthday when we were shooting Molly's World."

She looked at him incredulously. How could he even ask that? Of course, looking back, he'd always shown up, but only because he had to. Always leaving as soon as possible, and never even saying as much as Happy Birthday to her.

"What?"

She leaned in close to whisper in his ear so the rest of the plane wouldn't be party to their conversation. "Do you know how long my mom has been gone?"

"Since you were a kid," he said back.

"Twenty two years exactly."

"Oh," he replied, not really understanding.

"It's hard to celebrate on the day of your mother's death," she finally said bluntly, seeing that he wasn't catching on. As soon as the words left her mouth, she clamped her teeth around the inside of her lower lip to keep the tears at bay. "If it were up to me, I'd stay locked away for my birthday, but alas, when I turned 13, my dad decided I had to try and be a normal teenager, which included having birthday parties."

Oh. That explained so much. He wanted to hug her. Not because as her husband he should, just as one person to another, he wanted to show her compassion. That was a strange feeling for Tristan. Instead, because to preserve their charade he shouldn't just be getting this information, he squeezed her hand in a supportive manner.

She squeezed his hand back, and he could feel a little of the tension leave her body. Silence reigned again for a while until Tristan could no longer hold his fake smile, and needed to do something else with his mouth.

"So how many missed calls did you have this morning?" The plane had just reached cruising altitude so Rory reached into her purse and grabbed her phone, tapping in her code and setting it on Airplane mode. Instead of answering him, she handed the phone to him. She had nothing to hide. Besides, the voicemails were worse than the texts, and he couldn't listen to those on the plane, only see who'd left them.

"See for yourself."

As he accepted the phone, he wondered if she would expect to see his in return. Maybe it would be best for her to learn about Danica in a public place so she wouldn't freak out. He looked over at her, and saw that she had resumed staring out the window. Maybe he'd tell her later.

He scrolled through the texts first. Lots from Lane and Paris, some from Finn and Colin, and much to his dismay – though he didn't know why it bothered him – Logan. She had a lot of friends eager to wish her a happy birthday. He was surprised to find that only Paris and Lane seemed to know that she didn't like her birthday. He smiled reading Paris's last text. It was nice to know that she read both of them the same riot act for their behavior. The one from Colin made him scowl. Rory wanted to get married, did she perhaps remember more about last night than she'd let on? Did she somehow manage to orchestrate this whole fiasco?

He switched to missed calls, seeing most of the people that had texted more than once in the voicemail category. "Who is Abby Hamilton?"

"My press agent."

"And the blocked number before that?" Part of him was waiting for her to tell him it was none of his business.

Her expression became an angry one. "A reporter with People Magazine. One of the new girls gave out my private number."

Tristan could appreciate her anger. "Isn't that like Rule Number One if you work with celebrities? NEVER give out the private number."

"You would think," she replied with a shrug.

"Tell me you're not going to just let her get away with it."

Rory shook her head. "Abby already fired her, before I could even request it."

"Good," he said. He continued to hold on to her phone, moving to her contacts to add his own information. "What did Huntzberger want?" He was striving for nonchalant, but he wasn't sure he was pulling it off.

Rory snorted as she recalled his message. "I'll play it for you when we're off the plane."

Tristan nodded in agreement.

"Can I use your iPad to work on that press release some more?" she asked.

"Sure." He unlocked it and handed it to her.

She spent the remaining hour of the flight hard at work, writing, erasing, rewriting, and moving around the press release. He watched her as she worked, brow furrowed, lower lip caught between her teeth. While it might have been perfectly acceptable for him to stare at his new bride in awe had they been actual newlyweds, he began getting creeped out by his own behavior. "Can I play Angry Birds on this?" he asked finally.

"Sure."

He slid the bar to unlock the phone only to realize too much time had passed and he needed the pass code again. He handed her the phone, but instead of taking it she whispered quietly, "It's zero four one six."

He finished the flight playing Angry Birds and contemplating the year to come.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

There was only a small group of reporters waiting for them when they stepped off of the plane in Hartford.

"Tristan! Rory! What are you doing here in Connecticut?"

Rory squeezed Tristan's hand and answered, "You're certainly not surprised to see us, as you're waiting at the airport. What do you think we're doing here?"

The question asker seemed caught off guard by Rory's flippant response, which caused Tristan to smile. "Uh, visiting your family?"

"You got it in one. You should be a reporter!" she said with a smile as she dragged Tristan past them towards the parking garage.

"No car service?" he asked as they walked past all of the taxis and town cars.

"I drove," she replied as she stopped to dig the keys to her father's Mercedes out of her purse. He picked up her suitcase and waited for her to find the keys.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed as she grabbed them. "I'm in B-6." They followed the signs for the B level for a while. "I can carry my own suitcase," she said.

"It's okay. I've got it," he answered, continuing to carry both suitcases.

Moments later they reached the car, and she popped the trunk.

"Nice ride," he said as he set the suitcases in the back.

"It's my dads."

"Any chance you'll let me drive?" he asked.

"Because you're afraid of my driving or because you want to drive my dad's sweet ride?" Given that his movie star status had provided him with several sweet rides over the years, the former was most definitely his reasoning.

"It's been a long time since I've driven a car without tons of traffic," he finally said.

Rory shook her head. "No way. You have no clue where we're going and I'd like to not be late to dinner."

Tristan stuck his lower lip out in a pout that he'd been using to get his way most of his life, but climbed into the passenger seat anyhow. "Fine."

"Maybe next time."

She started the car, and backed out of the spot. He was silent as she paid for parking and made her way back to the interstate.

"So tell me what I need to know to survive dinner with your family."

Rory was silent for a moment that stretched into two, and then into a full minute, and Tristan was afraid she might be ignoring him. "If you don't help me out, I'll tell them the truth when they ask questions," he finally said.

She turned to glare at him. "Is this the way it's going to be for the next year? You don't get your way so you threaten to bring the whole thing down?" Her voice was rising in anger. "I wasn't ignoring you, I was trying to find the most diplomatic manner to give you the information!"

He sat there silently, not sure what to say.

"So is this threat going to be hanging over me for a whole year? If it is, you should have just said no."

"It's not. It wasn't meant as a threat."

"Good. So, what to know about my family? Well, I lived with Grandma Francine and Grandpa Straub for about a year after my mom died. Grandpa passed away last summer."

"Why did you live with them?"

"Because my dad could hardly get out of bed," she said as if it was no big deal. She moved on quickly, not wanting to give him a chance to ask about it. "Grandma loves celebrity gossip, so any juicy tidbits you have about people, that aren't me, will win you a place in her heart."

"And your dad?"

"Our house is like a shrine to 1992. Almost nothing has changed since my mom died. My dad still loves her." Tristan didn't know how to respond. "But don't talk about her! He used to be a screen writer, but after… well you know, he took a corporate job with an insurance company in Hartford."

"Anything else?"

"I'm an only child, and he's a little over protective. Don't mention sex for any reason, and oh, he loved Logan, so don't mention anything about him either."

"What should I talk about?"

"Your work, your family, how wonderful I am. That should be a comprehensive list." Rory tapped her fingers on the wheel as she drove.

Tristan shifted in the front seat. "And if they ask about us getting married so quickly?"

She hummed in thought. "We've been seeing each other for a few weeks on the quiet, and when you know, you know. That should be enough."

"When you know, you know?" he repeated.

"Exactly."

Tristan took a moment to process what he'd just learned, and Rory decided to scan through radio stations, looking for a good song. She finally settled on a station playing an Adele song. She sang along quietly.

"You can't sing," Tristan told her.

"Really? Well I'm glad someone finally brought that to my attention," she said sarcastically.

"Sorry. So, is there anything you think you should know about me?" he asked.

She thought about it for a minute. She had known everything about Logan: what projects he was working on, what was coming up in his pipeline, what foods he hated, how he got the scar on his shoulder, his favorite color, and the type of underwear he preferred to wear. Everything except the really important thing: he didn't want to get married. She didn't think she needed to know Tristan that well, but some stuff wouldn't hurt. "What are you working on right now?" she finally asked.

"A B-list frat comedy," he said dryly.

"Really?"

"No not really," he scoffed.

"I guess I deserved that. So really, what are you working on?"

He looked down at his hands for a moment, and Rory wondered if it was something really embarrassing. "I've got a small part in a historical mini-series that Showtime is doing."

"What's it about?"

"World War Two."

Rory smiled. "Well you are a perfect specimen for the Aryan Race."

"Anything else you want to know?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Something random that nobody knows."

He stared out the window lost in thought for a moment. "I hate all forms of squid and octopus."

"What do you mean all forms?"

"Cooked, raw, alive in the sea. I hate them all."

The passion with which he made this statement made Rory decline to question him further. She returned to switching channels on the radio.

"So what did Huntzberger want when he called? To offer you congratulations on your recent nuptials?"

"As if. You can listen to it if you want." She lucky dipped into her purse and pulled out her phone on the first try.

Tristan took the phone from her and tapped in the code. Since it was still in Airplane mode he took the time to readjust the setting. When the phone had signal again, a slew of text messages and another voicemail or two came in.

He ignored the new ones in favor of listening to the one from Logan.

Logan's voice filled the car. _"Geez Ace, I knew you wanted to get married, but I didn't know you wanted to get married this badly. This is just crazy. If you need anything, please call me. Fallon and I will do everything we can to help you out."_

Tristan laughed at his message. "Please tell me you wouldn't actually call him and _Fallon_ for help."

"I wouldn't."

"Why does he call you Ace?"

Rory glanced over at him, giving him a look that he interpreted to mean _and this is your business how?_ But he met her gaze and waited her out. Finally she sighed, "Same reason you called me Molly earlier."

"Are you going to call him back?"

She laughed. "No."

The phone began to ring. "Who is it?" Rory asked.

He looked at the caller id, _Christopher Hayden_. "Your dad. Do you want to answer it?"

"Can't talk and drive, it's against the law in Connecticut without an earpiece. My earpiece is packed in my suitcase, so you can answer it."

"Rory!" he whined.

"You'll be meeting him soon enough, might as well get a chance to make a good first impression."

He slid the bar across the phone. "Hello?"

"Rory?" her father asked.

"No Sir, it's Tristan. Rory's driving, and apparently her earpiece is packed," he explained nervously.

"I see. Would you please ask my daughter if she's still planning to attend her birthday dinner?" Christopher asked tersely.

"We're on our way now Sir. We're…" he paused and looked at Rory for a time estimate.

"Tell him we're just passing the rooster."

"… just passing the rooster," Tristan repeated hesitantly.

"Alright, then I'll see you in five minutes." The phone was disconnected before Tristan could respond.

"We're only five minutes away! How could you not warn me?"

"You didn't ask. Besides, what would you do to prepare?"

She had a point. Tristan focused on the scenery. It looked like an idyllic small town. "I don't remember any of this."

"Why would you?" she asked.

"I did attend your birthday party for four years in a row. I know I was kind of out of it in the later years, but I think I would have remembered that rooster."

She sighed, and he caught the annoyed look on her face. "We didn't live here during Molly's World."

"I'm sorry," he said, not knowing exactly what he was apologizing for.

She shook her head. "It's… complicated."

Rory turned left into a driveway, and parked the car next to a dark colored Jaguar. "We're here."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I don't own anything as usual. Next up we'll have dinner with the Haydens. I know this chapter is a little long, but I couldn't find a good point to stop. When they got to Connecticut just seemed to quick, and then the car ride got a little long… but what else are you going to do in the car but talk?<strong>

**Also, I have no clue about cellphone laws in Connecticut, but where I'm from, that's the law and I know lots of states have gone that way... so for the sake of this story, Connecticut has too. **

**As always I welcome your feedback… both the good and the bad! So please, read and review.**

**S**


	10. Chapter 10

They sat in the car in silence for a moment before Rory finally spoke. "We'd better get in there or my dad will come out here, and trust me, we don't want that."

"Contain the scene to indoors. Got it," Tristan said.

Rory smiled slightly, "And don't forget to grab our bags."

Tristan cleared his throat, "We're staying here?" Despite the throat clearing, his voice still squeaked causing her to all out laugh.

"Why wouldn't I stay with my family when I visit? I'm not that pretentious that I insist on staying in 4-star hotels everywhere I go."

Instead of replying, Tristan opened the car door to get out and get the bags from the trunk.

Rory climbed out on her side and followed him to the back of the car. "Did you ever see that episode of Saved By The Bell?" she asked.

"I saw lots of episodes of Saved By The Bell," he replied. "I wanted to be just like Zack Morris." This admission made Rory start to giggle, and Tristan blush in return, he didn't know why he told her that! It just popped out. "If you try to use that against me I'll deny it!" he added sharply.

Her giggles faded and she started talking again. "It was from the Miss Bliss years. The one where the rock star comes to town, and has a secret identity…"

"And Zack gets to kiss the rock star, as herself and as the rock star," Tristan finished.

"You really did want to be Zack Morris didn't you!"

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"Excuse me," a voice from the porch started, "but did you just tell my daughter to 'shut up'?"

Tristan gulped, "Uh-"

Rory sighed and spoke up. "It's okay Dad. I was teasing Tristan, I brought it on myself."

"Alright," Christopher said. "But hurry up, your grandmother is waiting."

Tristan set the suitcases down on the ground to close the trunk, and looked at Rory, wanting her to finish her story.

"Two seconds Dad, I promise," she called to him.

He merely exhaled gruffly and returned to the house.

"So, the rock star episode of Saved By The Bell," Tristan reminded her.

"In LA, I'm Rory Gilmore, actress, or to correlate: rock star Stevie. But here, I'm little Rory Hayden, the girl who visited the ice cream shop every day and tried to cheer up a weeping willow, again correlation: Colleen."

"Except everybody here knows that Rory Hayden and Rory Gilmore are the same person, no one but Miss Bliss knew that Stevie and Colleen were the same," Tristan pointed out.

Rory just stared at him, then turned to walk into the house. "The entire town is Miss Bliss," she finally replied as she hit the top step.

"Whatever you say Mol," Tristan said quietly from the step behind her.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

As soon as the door was shut behind him, Tristan set the bags down, not knowing where else to put them. Rory grabbed for his hand, and he let her take it, adjusting their grips so it felt comfortable. While Rory had merely grasped his hand to pull him along, he found that it felt more natural when their fingers were interlaced.

"Hello," Rory called.

Christopher's head popped out of the kitchen. "Your grandmother is in the dining room setting the table, why don't you go help her."

"Okay," Rory replied. Tristan remained silent as she pulled him towards the living room.

"Maybe Tristan can help me in the kitchen?" Christopher requested. Tristan could feel his stomach tightening into knots.

Rory strengthened her grip on his hand. "I want him to meet Grandma first."

Her father sighed. Tristan could tell her father could see right through the plan to keep the two men separated. Yet he followed Rory into the dining room, going along with her plan regardless.

"Hello Grandma," Rory said, dropping Tristan's hand and going around the table to greet the older woman.

"Hello Darling. Happy Birthday!" Francine said in return, offering her granddaughter a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "So who's this young man?"

"Didn't Dad tell you?" Rory asked nervously.

"Nothing more than to set the table for four."

Rory groaned. "Dad!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

Instead of shouting back, Christopher appeared in the dining room with a large tray of food. "It's your news Rory, you can deliver it yourself. Some people might prefer to hear it in person, instead of from the news." The bitterness in Christopher's voice was apparent even to Tristan who didn't really know the man.

Silence reigned for a full minute as father and daughter had a stare down.

"Grandma, this is Tristan. Do you remember him from Molly's World?" Rory finally spoke.

Francine seemed to take a moment to think about it before answering. "Yes of course. Lovely to see you."

"Tristan, this is my grandmother, Francine Hayden."

"Pleased to meet you ma'am," he mumbled, nodding his head not venturing across the table to shake her hand. He wasn't sure why he was nervous meeting his fake in laws, but boy was he ever.

Francine resumed setting the table, and Christopher returned to the kitchen to bring out more food. "It's nice that you're bringing a friend home for your birthday dinner Rory. I don't think you've ever done that," Francine said conversationally.

Rory blushed. "Tristan's my…"

Tristan cut her off before she could say anything. "Happy to be here."

"Well of course you are dear. Who wouldn't be happy to spend time with my granddaughter."

He bit his cheek in effort not to laugh or say anything rude. Not even 12 hours ago would he have ever thought he would be here: having birthday dinner with Rory Gilmore, the woman at the top of his least favorites list for the last decade.

Christopher returned to the dining room with what looked to be a large salad and a loaf of garlic bread. "Everybody have a seat, food's all out here."

Tristan waited for everyone to move to their own seats before determining which one was his. In the end, Rory's father had sat at the head of the table, with Francine on his left and Rory on his right, and Tristan took the empty seat next to Rory.

He took in what was on the table, lasagna, tortellini in some cream sauce, garlic bread, salad, stuffed mushrooms, and something crispy fried that he didn't recognize. "Dinner looks delicious!" he said, at the same time Rory asked, "Does anyone want some wine?"

Christopher and Francine both inched their glasses towards Rory, so she could pour the bottle of Chianti that was sitting opened in front of her. "Tristan, did you want some?" she asked before pouring any other glasses.

"Sure. Thanks," he added as an after thought. Rory beamed at him as any good fake wife would do.

"Dinner looks delicious," Tristan said again, wanting to make sure his compliment wasn't completely missed by Rory's offer of wine.

"It's all of Rory's favorites," Christopher told him.

"Except the salad," Rory said.

"Just because you don't like anything green doesn't mean the rest of us won't eat it," her father reminded her.

This caused Tristan to look at her again. What kind of movie star maintained Rory's shape without virtually living on salads?

Each dish was passed around and everyone loaded up their own plates in silence. Tristan took a little from each plate, since he wasn't picky and thought it would be best if he at least tried his wife's favorites.

As soon as all of the plates were done being passed, everyone dug in, Tristan was just sipping his wine when Christopher started speaking. "So Rory, how is it that you conveniently forgot to mention that Hep Alien was playing in Atlantic City?"

"It's no big deal Dad."

"Says the girl that came home married! To a man I didn't even know you were seeing. I swear, we talked three days ago, and you told me there was no one in your life…" Christopher's rant was cut short by two things.

First was Francine gasping loudly and exclaiming, "Married?"

Second was Tristan choking on his wine.

"Can we not do this right now?" Rory asked as she pounded Tristan on the back.

"Married?" Francine repeated.

"No, we are doing this right now." The fatherly authority in Christopher's voice seemed to leave no wiggle room. "What would your mother think?"

With that comment Rory burst into tears. Tristan automatically wrapped his arm around her to pull her close and comfort her, but Rory wasn't one to be comforted. "How would I know? You stopped talking about her the day she died. I have no idea what she'd think about anything. Hell, until I got here a few days ago, I didn't even remember that she loved Halloween," Rory yelled angrily, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Lorelai Leigh, you do not need to speak to your father that way," Francine scolded her as though she were three and not thirty.

"No offense Grandma, but butt out."

"Rory!" Now it was her father's turn to scold, but before Rory could say anything else, Tristan stood up drawing the attention of the table.

"Look, I know I'm new here and all, but I won't sit idly by and let you make Rory feel bad. Clearly there are some issues to be resolved and discussed, but since I don't want my wife crying at her birthday dinner something's going to have to change. Either we can resume dinner and discuss things in a civilized manner, or Rory and I can go check into a hotel and we can try again tomorrow."

"Tristan, don't," Rory tried to stop him from making things worse.

Tristan remained standing waiting for Christopher or Francine to say something. Finally Christopher spoke, "Sit down and eat before it gets cold. We'll try for civilized."

"I'm sorry Dad. I'm sorry Grandma," Rory said through her tearful sniffles.

"Me too," Christopher said, and Tristan noticed for the first time that his eyes had become rimmed in red.

Francine didn't say anything, she merely resumed eating.

The table was silent except for the sound of silverware on plates, at least for a little while. Tristan began to eat, dredging the crispy thing through the sauce it came with. He was just lifting it to his mouth when Rory touched his arm. "Don't eat that," she told him.

"Why not?" he asked as he put the fork in his mouth.

"It's calamari."

Oh no. It was already in his mouth, and he'd started to chew. He couldn't spit it out, but he couldn't seem to stop chewing it either. It was worse than gum.

"What's wrong with calamari?" Christopher asked. "The saffron aioli they serve it with is delightful."

"He hates squid," Rory said.

Soon the entire table was laughing, except for Tristan, who was trying to manage one tiny piece of squid. Finally he managed to swallow, and picked up his wine glass to take a very large drink.

"I hope you act in comedies," Francine told him. "You've got great facial expressions."

"Yes, what are you up to these days?" Christopher asked him.

"Currently I'm working on a mini series for Showtime. It's a period piece set in World War Two."

"Well you are a poster boy for the Aryan Race," Christopher said.

"That's what I said!" Rory exclaimed.

They exchanged a look and a small smile, and Tristan added, "No, really, that's almost exactly what she said."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Surprisingly, after Tristan's outburst, the remainder of dinner went well. Her father stayed to lighter topics, and Tristan entertained her grandmother with celebrity gossip, some of which Rory was certain he made up.

Things didn't become strained again until the last bite of lasagna was consumed. Then Christopher pushed back his plate and refilled his wine glass. "So, _in a civilized manner_, why did you get married so quickly? And on your birthday of all days." His voice was forced calm, but she could see the intensity in his expression.

"When you know, you know," Tristan said with a smile and an affectionate look at Rory. She leaned into him and rested her hand on his thigh.

Christopher and Francine exchanged looks, and Rory wished she could read minds. She purposely planted her father's line of 'when you know, you know', so he couldn't make a huge deal out of her rushed marriage. "Are you pregnant?" he asked.

"Dad!" she exclaimed. "Of course not. It's only been a few weeks."

"Christopher, leave the girl alone. You should remember what it's like to be young and impetuous," Francine chided.

"Thank you, Grandma."

Francine turned to Rory, "that doesn't excuse you entirely. I am very disappointed that I missed your wedding. You are my only granddaughter after all. Richard and Emily will be simply crushed!"

Tears welled up in Rory's eyes, and Tristan wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Maybe we can throw a party to celebrate. It won't be the same, but at least it'll give the families a chance to celebrate," he suggested.

"A wonderful idea," Francine cooed.

"We can start planning when Rory and I get back home to LA. But for now, let's have some cake and then Rory and I will turn in. It's been a long day." Tristan's smile was full of mischief, which made Francine titter with laughter, and Christopher glare like any over protective father. Rory, however, frowned at the mention of cake.

"We don't do cake here," she whispered to Tristan.

Christopher pushed his chair back far enough to stand up, "I'll get the ice cream."

Francine picked up empty plates and platters and took them into the kitchen, and after her second trip, she and Christopher returned with large trays containing several flavors of ice cream, toppings, and bowls.

"I can't believe you remembered," Rory whispered.

Christopher smiled at his daughter, "how could I forget?"

Tristan looked between the two of them curiously. "Care to explain?"

"Well, as a child actor, Rory missed out on a lot of desserts. So her birthday became the only time it was acceptable to pig out on sweets. After… since cake was out of the question, it became a sundae bar."

Rory could tell Tristan was curious about the cake, but he held his tongue well. "Well I can't wait to partake in the tradition," he said finally. "What are all of these things?"

"Four kinds of ice cream," Rory started, "Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and butter brickle. Hot fudge, caramel, marshmallow crème, butterscotch, and pineapple toppings. Mini marshmallows, gummy bears, Oreo cookies and bananas plus whipped cream and nuts." She pointed to each bowl as she told him what was in it.

"All of that in one sundae?" he asked.

Everyone else at the table laughed. "Of course not! Butter brickle ice cream and gummy bears? Ew!" Rory replied. "Lots of mini sundaes for me. Banana splits for Dad and Grandma."

Each person took a large dish, and began to fix a sundae. As usual, her father and grandmother made traditional banana splits, and Rory started out with her favorite: chocolate ice cream, hot fudge, marshmallow crème, and Oreo cookie bits. She sat back to enjoy her first bite and watch Tristan fix his dessert. He started with half a banana, added a scoop of chocolate ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream and nuts. "I never pegged you as a traditionalist," Rory said between bites.

He shrugged and enjoyed a bite of his dessert. "So tell me, how did Rory get into acting?"

Rory blushed hating to talk about herself.

"Hasn't she told you this story?" Christopher asked between bites of his own creation.

Tristan shook his head and Rory spoke up, "I can't remember. I've always acted."

Her father cleared his throat. "It all started when her mother got offered a role she couldn't refuse. Rory was just four, and couldn't be pried from her mother's side, so instead of upsetting the actress they hoped would star in their film, the writers wrote in a bit part for Rory." Christopher looked at his daughter affectionately, and Tristan found himself wishing to see Rory as a tiny child actress. "The rest is history."

"Please tell me you have a copy of this movie!" Tristan said enthusiastically.

Rory shook her head vehemently, and a look of sorrow crossed Christopher's face. "Perhaps another time," Francine said kindly, then changed the subject. "Are you two planning to stay here tonight?"

Rory nodded, and Tristan looked to Christopher for acceptance. "If it's okay with you, Sir."

"Are you both planning to fit into Rory's old twin bed?" Christopher asked with a chuckle. "I mean, I know you're newlyweds and all, but Ror you've fallen out of that bed every morning since you've been here!"

Rory winced at the thought. And really she didn't intend to sleep in the same bed as Tristan. Maybe she should have thought this through more thoroughly. "Maybe we should see if there's a room available at the Dragonfly," Rory squeaked out. If nothing else, the bed would be bigger, and no one would walk in to find Tristan sleeping on the floor.

"I'll call and find out," Christopher said.

"Do I at least get to see your old room?" Tristan asked.

"Of course." She gave him a sickly sweet smile that she hoped her grandmother couldn't see through. "After I finish my sundaes."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory pulled him through a door next to the kitchen and as soon as she closed the door behind him, she dropped his hand as though it were made of fire. "You didn't have to do that you know," she said.

"Do what?" he asked.

She sighed. "Stand up to my dad and my grandma."

Tristan shrugged, "if anyone is going to make you cry about being married to me, I intend for it to be me."

"Well, thanks I guess."

Rory fell silent and Tristan took in his surroundings.

So this was Rory Gilmore's sanctuary. For some reason, Tristan expected it to look more like a teenaged girls room. Pictures of movie stars on the walls, that kind of thing. He was truly surprised to see spelling lists and Harvard paraphernalia. "This isn't at all how I imagined your room," he said quietly, mindful of the nearby ears that expected wedded bliss from them.

"I haven't lived here since I was eight," she reminded him.

He walked over to her bed and sat down on it, lying back and resting his head in his hands. "Why is that?"

"Can we not talk about that here?" Rory hissed. "And get off my bed!"

"Surely you've had a guy in your room before," he said as he got up. He walked over to her corkboard to get a closer look at the pictures tacked to it.

Rory sighed in a loud exaggerated manner.

"You were with Logan for years, you must have brought him home once or twice," Tristan suggested. He could see the frustration rising in her face, she wanted to yell at him, and she couldn't.

"Logan had an affinity for 4-star hotels," she said through her teeth. "Not that it's any of your business."

Tristan changed the subject, tapping a picture on the wall. "Who are these people?"

Rory walked up beside him to check out the picture. "How the time changes us," she started quietly. "That little girl in the thick glasses and the bowl haircut is none other than Lane Kim. The little boy with dirt smeared on his face was our childhood friend Jess Mariano, and the other little girl is me."

"You I recognized," Tristan said sharply. "But Lane! Wow, if only the tabloids had this picture…" he trailed off as Rory thumped him on the arm.

"Don't get any ideas DuGrey."

"Jess Mariano… why is that name familiar?" Tristan asked.

"He writes for Rolling Stone."

Tristan smiled in recognition. "The three of you turned out quite well. Stars Hollow must be proud." Sarcasm dripped from his voice, but Rory smiled in spite of it.

Rory pulled on Tristan's arm, trying to drag him back to the door. "And you've officially spent enough time in my childhood."

On his way towards the door he caught a glimpse of another picture in a frame on the dresser. "You look a lot like your mom."

"Thank you," Rory said quietly as she continued to pull him to the door.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan almost walked straight into Christopher as he exited Rory's room. "Good news guys. The Dragonfly has a room for you!"

"Thanks Dad," Rory said, leaning in to peck his cheek. "Can we borrow your car to get there?"

"Sure," Christopher said with a wry smile. "At least if you have my car, I know I'll see you again before you head back to LA. Do you know when you're leaving?"

Even Tristan could hear the disappointment in his voice.

Rory looked at Tristan, then back at her father. "I'm sorry Dad. Tristan has to get back to work on Wednesday, so we'll probably head out tomorrow."

"I understand," he said coolly.

"Maybe once we get settled in, you can come visit us." The words were out of his mouth before he even knew where they'd come from. Rory pinched his hand, and he did his best to look happy and relaxed instead of in pain. "It'll be fun," he said to Rory.

"I'd like that," Christopher finally replied.

Rory dropped Tristan's hand and hugged her father with both arms. "We'll be over tomorrow to drop the car off, would you drive us to the airport?"

"I suppose. Just text me with your flight time."

"It was good to see you again," Tristan said, extending his hand to Rory's father, when Rory finally released him from her hug.

"Indeed."

"Well we'd better go," Rory said quickly, not wanting her father to get a chance to question Tristan just yet.

"Say goodbye to your grandmother," Christopher reminded them.

Rory nodded and Tristan followed behind her as she led them to the living room where Francine was reading the newspaper and enjoying a cup of coffee.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you've enjoyed this installment. I know, there's not a lot of drama yet, but there will be. (insert evil grin here)<strong>

**Again, I don't own any of it. But please read and review, just the same!**

**S**


	11. Chapter 11

The drive from the Hayden house to The Dragonfly Inn was short and silent. Rory navigated the roads she could have driven in her sleep, and glanced over at Tristan as he stared out the window.

"It's so dark here," he finally said.

She shrugged. "Not many street lamps and no pollution. I bet when we get out of the car you'll be able to see the stars." She pulled the Mercedes into the lot parking it near the main entrance.

They got out of the car, and Tristan went to the back to get the bags from the trunk. "Wow, it really is peaceful out here," he said as he looked up at the night sky.

"It made wishing on stars really easy," Rory admitted, taking her own bag from him.

He grabbed it back, "I've got them."

She nodded and climbed the stairs to the entrance. "Hello?" she called as she entered.

"Rory Gilmore!" an excited voice with a French accent greeted her eagerly.

"That's me."

The man was practically quivering with excitement. "I can't believe Rory Gilmore is staying here!" She merely smiled at him as Tristan joined her. "And Tristan DuGrey!" His voice reached a pitch that only teenaged girls and dogs could hear.

"Hi," Tristan said gruffly with a small inclination of his head. "So I understand you have a room for us?"

"Yes of course! One of our best, but not our best because I had no notice that you were coming…" the man rambled on.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Rory told him kindly.

As the man continued to ramble, his French accent got thicker and thicker. Finally Tristan cleared his throat to get the man's attention as they could no longer understand him. "Our room?"

"Mais oui! Room 7. It's on the second floor at the end of the hall, with a balcony over looking the pond."

Rory signed the credit card slip, and Tristan carried the bags as they followed the man up the stairs.

"I am Michel, if you need anything, at any time, please call the front desk," the Frenchman said as he led the way to the room. "The chef has gone for the night, but if you need anything from the kitchen, one of the staff can bring it for you."

"Thank you," Rory said.

They reached room 7, and Michel unlocked the door, pushing it open into the room. The room was well decorated; dark wood furniture, plush linens and a king sized bed. There was a small table with two chairs, and two doors, one leading to the bathroom, and the other to a small balcony. "I hope this is sufficient," he said as he turned over the keys to Tristan.

"It's lovely," Rory answered instead as she looked around the room.

"The sheets are 800 thread count Egyptian cotton and the duvet is stuffed with a European White Goose Down comforter."

"It will be perfect," Tristan said after setting down the bags, and holding out his hand to tip Michel.

Michel shook his head, "I couldn't possibly accept." He backed out of the room closing the door.

"Well I guess Michel saved me twenty bucks," Rory said once she could hear his footsteps on the stairs.

"I thought you said the whole town was like Miss Bliss," Tristan sniped back.

Rory ran her hands through her hair, pulling it away from her face. "He's new."

"Sure," he replied as he opened the door and stepped onto the balcony. He pulled the cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one up as he settled onto a chair.

"What are you doing?" Rory hissed.

Tristan looked from her to his cigarette and back to her. "What does it look like?"

"You really should quit."

"Thanks Mom, but high stress situations aren't exactly the time to make those kinds of changes." The sarcasm in his voice cut at Rory. Even though it had only been a few hours, she'd gotten rather used to 'fake husband Tristan'.

She left him alone on the balcony and retreated to the room to change out of her clothes into some pajamas. She had only grabbed her carry on when they left her father's house, so she was a little limited on the choices. She pulled on an old pair of yoga pants and yet another one of Logan's old tee shirts. It wasn't overly late, but it had been a long day. So she washed her face and brushed her teeth, and headed to bed, grabbing her phone and her book on the way.

Now that she and Tristan had a plan she could safely respond to all of her friends, including the messages that had come in since she'd left Atlantic City. She drafted a mass text to all of her acquaintances who texted, thanking them for the birthday wishes and the hearty congratulations on her nuptials, assuring them that she was in fact a very happy girl. She tweeted the same basic message for all of her fans. Then she settled in to actually talk to her friends.

She was mid text to Lane when her phone rang. _Logan Huntzberger. _"Shit," she said aloud. She couldn't keep ignoring him, he wouldn't go away. He knew her too well.

"Hello," she answered in a chipper voice.

"Rory, what the hell is going on?" Logan asked in return.

She twirled her hair around her finger, as if he could see her striving for innocence. "Why, whatever do you mean?"

"You married Tristan DuGrey! Did our relationship mean so little to you that you could turn around and marry someone else a mere three months later?"

She could feel her face turning red in indignation. "Hello Pot, it's Kettle. You're black."

"Excuse me?" Logan replied.

"Get down of your damn high horse Logan. Did our relationship mean so little to you that after telling me you never wanted to get married, you proposed to someone else two months later?"

"That's different!" he sputtered.

Rory snorted. "How?"

"Fallon and I are in love!"

"And Tristan and I aren't?" she retorted. "Just because you didn't want to marry me, no one would want to marry me?"

The line was silent for a moment, and she could imagine Logan pacing in the den of their former home. "Come off it Rory. You got married to Tristan on your birthday in Atlantic City. If that doesn't scream trying to bury the pain, I don't know what does."

Rory gasped, as though she'd been slapped. She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Tristan chose this moment to reenter their room. He grabbed the phone from her hand. "Hello?" he said. "Who is this?"

Logan exhaled with a laugh. "This is between Rory and me."

"Hello Logan," Tristan said in a snide voice. "Does your fiancé know you're calling my wife?"

Logan scrambled for something to say, but Tristan didn't let him talk.

"I don't know what it is that you've said to upset my wife, but don't ever call her again."

"If Rory wants to talk to me, she can talk to me."

Tristan chuckled. "I can promise you, she doesn't want to talk to you." He tapped the End Call button and handed Rory's phone back to her.

"I was dealing with him just fine on my own," she said as she scrubbed at the tears on her face.

Tristan patted her head patronizingly. "I can see that." Despite his patronizing tone, he plucked a tissue out of the box and handed it to her. "Get yourself together for a minute while I change then we can talk about this."

"Get myself together?" she repeated as he carried his suitcase into the bathroom.

"Yes!" he called back.

She finished her text message to Lane, and sent ones to Paris and Marty for good measure. She set her phone on the nightstand and opened her book. It was her well-worn copy of Rebecca, a personal favorite that made it's way onto her reading list every October. Something about the mystery of Manderley grabbed her every time.

She looked up when she heard the bathroom door open, and was surprised by what she saw. Tristan DuGrey was all grown up. He exited the bathroom wearing plaid pants and a wife beater, but what surprised her most were the square framed, wire rimmed glasses that he wore and the book he carried in his own hand.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," she said without thinking.

"Sorry to disappoint," he replied.

She blushed a little, not meaning to insult him. "Actually, I think they look good on you."

He flipped back the covers to climb into bed.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she asked.

Again he looked at her as though she had lost her mind. "Climbing into bed."

"You're not sleeping here," she told him.

He sighed. "You don't seriously expect me to sleep on the floor do you?" She looked around the room for another option. "There's no couch, and besides, you know Michel would be all a-twitter in the morning if he found two sets of bedding."

Rory scrunched up her face in acknowledgment. He was right, and she hated it when that happened. She scooted over closer to the other edge of the bed. "Fine. But stay on your side."

He snorted, "because this is my first choice too."

Tristan adjusted the pillows behind him to prop himself up to read. Rory caught the title of the book, The Three Musketeers.

"That's a great book," she said.

"I know."

"It's not what I would expect you to read," she started again.

He picked the book up and set it in his lap. "You were expecting what? See Spot Run?"

Rory snickered. "No. I knew you could read. I just expected you to be the Tom Clancy/James Rollin type."

"I guess I prefer classic political conspiracies and espionage to the more current counterparts. Just as it looks like you prefer classic gothic mysteries to the contemporaries."

He flipped open his book to the marker, then closed it again. "So what did Huntzberger say that upset you so much."

Rory tried to focus on her book and ignore him, but after a minute she could still feel the weight of his stare, and decided he wouldn't give up. "He suggested that I didn't respect our relationship because I jumped into a marriage straight away," she finally admitted.

"Well that's just hypocritical of him."

"That's what I pointed out."

"Which is why that's not what he said that upset you. Try again."

Rory shifted in her spot, stalling. "I don't want to talk about it."

Tristan set his book down all together and turned to face her. "I can appreciate that, but still, I'm going to have to insist that you tell me. I'd hate to be blindsided by it in the media."

Her eyes narrowed, and she knew he was thinking of the day she found out about Logan's engagement. "He said that the only reason I married you was to try and bury my pain."

He laughed lightly. "Why does he think that? Is he one of the ones that knows that you hate me?"

Rory shook her head. Surprisingly that never came up in all of the years they were together. "Because I got married in Atlantic City on my birthday."

"It's a little unorthodox, I'll give you that, but…" he trailed off, not knowing how to ask for more details.

"You know my mom died on my birthday." He nodded. "The reason we don't eat cake is because she was killed by drunk drivers going to get the cake."

"Okay," he said hesitantly, not knowing what else to say.

She sighed and closed her eyes. "When I was little, my birthday was magical. My mom would climb into my bed every year at the time I was born and tell me the story of my birth. I got to have chocolate chip waffles for breakfast. She always planned big elaborate parties, with cake and games. Even my dad and my grandparents played along. It was my favorite day of the year. Ever since I can remember, at the end of the night, she'd tuck me in and tell me about my 21st birthday. How we'd go to Atlantic City, and play 21 the moment I turned 21. We'd have 21 drinks and I'd get the phone number of 21 guys."

Tears were streaming down her face as she recounted this information. "Jess and Lane knew about this, because my mom would tell the story even if we were having a slumber party. Logan is the only other person I ever told."

"That's why your dad made such a big deal about the Hep Alien concert being in Atlantic City," Tristan said, as pieces began clicking into place. Rory nodded. "And you, apparently, dragging me to play 21 at midnight…" She nodded again.

"Yes. Atlantic City on my birthday was a bad idea. I've spent my whole life avoiding it like the plague. And taking you to play 21 was self-destructive, I admit that. But getting married…" she didn't know how to finish the sentence.

Tristan was apparently equally lost for words, as he returned to his original position and picked his book back up.

"You're really regretting agreeing to this deal now aren't you? You didn't fully understand how messy my life is, did you?" Rory was almost taunting him. She didn't know what reaction she was looking for, just that she needed some kind of reaction from him.

A smile formed on his lips as he turned the page of the book. "You haven't met my family yet."

Was he threatening to back out on her? Or was he indicating that his family would make her life seem mild by comparison?

She finally settled on the latter, and returned to her own book.

"I don't want you talking to Huntzberger anymore," Tristan said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Rory was about to off on an Eric Cartman style 'You don't own me, I do what I want' rant when Tristan spoke again.

"Again, I prefer that I'm the only one that gets to upset you."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan flipped pages in the book he was pretending to read. He'd read the book many times before, it was one of his favorites, but now he couldn't focus. His preconceived notions of Rory Gilmore were being destroyed.

He remembered going to her birthday parties every year during Molly's World. They were grand affairs held in a stately mansion in Hartford; tons of people, piles of gifts, and mountains of food. The producers had mandated that everyone go to the parties, and that was the part that Tristan hated the most. No one insisted that everyone attend his birthday parties – not that he wanted them to – just that everyone should be treated equally. He remembered that most of Rory's so called friends only wanted autographs. He remembered seeing Rory, usually in some dress that seemed far too old for her, making rounds talking to everyone. He couldn't remember if she'd seemed happy.

"So, the birthday parties we all had to attend?"

"I hated them just as much as everyone else. Probably more, because I had to put on a happy face and pretend to have fun with a bunch of people I didn't know, when all I wanted to do was go cry in my room," she answered without looking up from her book.

"Huh."

He went back to flipping pages while actually analyzing his behavior from earlier. Why did he care if her family upset her? He told himself it was because he wouldn't look like an adoring husband if he didn't defend his wife. But when Huntzberger called? There was no crowd to play to. She just looked so sad, and he hated seeing women cry. He would have done that for anyone.

He shook his head slightly, even he couldn't lie to himself that convincingly. He could walk by most things without getting involved. He saw no need to help old ladies cross the street, or young mothers chase errant shopping carts. Sure he would bend over backwards to help out a friend, but that never included Rory Gilmore. Maybe it was just a birthday kindness. That was it. He smiled at the resolution.

"What's so bad about your family?" Rory asked, just as he'd finally been able to focus on his book.

He sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

She snorted. "If I can't play that card, neither can you."

Tristan shook his head. "Nope. My family drama won't land us in the tabloids."

"You sure about that?"

He thought about it for a moment. Actually he wouldn't put it past his parents to try something like that if he ignored them for too long. "Don't worry, I won't let you go in unprepared."

"Turnabout is fair play," she said. "I just had to divulge a whole load of stuff I'd have rather kept to myself."

Tristan exhaled strongly through his nose. He set his book in his lap and removed his glasses, rubbing his temples with his free hand. "They're horrible," he said quietly. "Everything about my parents is horrible."

Rory turned all of her attention to him. "How do you mean?"

"They're mean, nasty people. The only time they ever talk to me is when then want something. Case in point, today! I haven't heard from them in months, and my mother calls, not to congratulate me, but to ask if it's a shotgun wedding!"

She shrugged, unsure of how to respond, "My dad asked if I was pregnant too, remember?"

"Yeah, but you saw your dad yesterday. I haven't actually seen my parents in over a year. One of them usually calls when they need something, but other than that… nada."

"So we won't see them."

He laughed. "Yeah right, my mom has called twice today already, and wants to set up 'lunch'. We'll see them or they'll stalk us."

"And you said they wouldn't land us in the tabloids," she playfully smacked his arm.

"I guess I'm just not used to being tabloid fodder anymore."

"Sorry about that."

"S'alright. I can put up with anything for a year. Hell I did Molly's World for four."

Rory huffed. "The show wasn't that bad!" she exclaimed.

"Whatever. I'm going to go to sleep now." He wasn't really tired, he just wanted to end the conversation. He put his book and his glasses on the nightstand and flicked off his light. He rolled onto his side to face away from Rory and the lamp that still glowed on her side of the bed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So a little drama, a little more getting to know one another. The next chapter will probably have their return to LA… and real life. <strong>

**Things I don't own: Gilmore Girls, Friends, South Park, The Three Musketeers and Rebecca. (Okay, I own copies of The Three Musketeers and Rebecca… but that's beside the point.)**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**S**


	12. Chapter 12

Rory was startled awake by the sound of a ringing phone. She bolted upright, and looked for her phone. It was on the nightstand next to her, so she grabbed for it, looking to silence it as to not wake Tristan. But when she looked to the other side of the bed, she noticed it was already empty.

"Hello," she said groggily, not bothering to check the caller id.

"What the hell is going on Rory?" Marty's voice boomed over the phone.

"Lower your voice! I just woke up," she mumbled. A look at the clock told her it was just barely 9:00. "And what are you doing up so early?"

"Working," he said in his normal voice. "I got an idea for a new script last night, and I just had to write."

Rory yawned. "You'll have to tell me all about it."

Marty laughed, "I will, as soon as you tell me what's going on with Tristan DuGrey. Last I recalled, you still hated his guts."

"We woke up married in Atlantic City," Rory said quietly.

"Annulment would cure that ailment."

"With my current standing as Most Talked About Celebrity, I don't think so," she told him. "I don't need people thinking I've gone off the deep end."

"And being married to Tristan isn't proof of that?"

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around the room for Tristan, even peering out the window behind the bed to see if he was out on the balcony. "For all the public knows, we've been helping each other through mutually rough times. We got caught up in the nostalgia of Molly's World, and finally decided we were in the right place and right time in our lives for us to work." She regurgitated the highlights of the draft press release they'd sent their press agents the night before.

Marty laughed so hard Rory was beginning to wonder if she should just hang up. "I can't believe Rory Gilmore is willing to lie to the world. But for how long? You can't stay married to the one person you truly hate forever," he said when he finally calmed down.

"Just long enough for the excitement to fade away, then we'll get divorced and go about our merry ways."

"So how did you get Tristan to agree to this?" Marty asked.

Rory groaned, it was the one question she didn't want to answer. Marty would never let her live it down. "I have my ways," she said finally, evading an actual answer.

"I just hope he doesn't take pictures, those will come back to haunt you," her best friend replied.

"Ew! Not that! Geez!"

"So when are you coming home?" he asked, bringing the conversation back into the realm of normalcy.

She shifted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable, grabbing Tristan's pillow and using it to prop herself up. "Obviously, the extended stay is being cut short. Tristan has work and we can't be separated." Marty groaned in distaste. "We're probably flying home tonight."

"Well call me when you get settled in. Where are you going to be living?"

"We're staying at Tristan's place."

Marty chuckled again. "Why's that?"

"All in the name of compromise," Rory told him. "Besides, I've only been in my place for a few months, I don't mind moving."

"I expect an invitation for dinner when you're settled in," he teased.

"Don't worry, you'll get one." Somehow she made him getting what he wanted sound like a threat. "So are you going to tell me about your new script?"

"Nah. You can read it when you get home. It'll give you an excuse to escape for a bit," Marty told her. "Talk to you later."

Before she could beg for details or even say goodbye, he was gone. She huffed at the phone, and tossed it on the bed. She was just about to get up when she heard the door open.

"Oh, you're up," Tristan said as he entered. "I brought coffee."

He brought the tray over to the bed and set it down on the nightstand. "Where have you been?" she asked as she picked up her coffee.

"I woke up a while ago, and decided to go out for a walk in the woods. Clear my head and all." Rory sipped her coffee and waited for him to continue. "When I came back in, the coffee just smelled amazing. So I had a cup, and decided to be a thoughtful husband and bring you one too," he sarcastically added for good measure.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "Have you checked into flights home?"

He shrugged. "I don't actually have to be back to work until Friday. If you want to stay another day or two, we probably can."

Rory shook her head. "No. I don't think I can handle the scrutiny of my father for that long. Besides I need to have my stuff moved in to your place. Do you have room for all of my furniture? Or should I just put it in storage?" She was curious about his place. She knew he'd been very cavalier with money back in the Molly's World days, just throwing it around buying cars and lavish gifts and trips for his friends, and she knew he wasn't doing a lot of high profile work these days. She kind of expected him to live in a small apartment.

"Better put your stuff in storage, I'm house sitting for a friend that's away in Asia for a few years. The place is already decorated with his stuff."

"What friend?" Rory asked suspiciously.

Tristan scowled at her. "Someone you don't know. My friend John, who's just a regular guy. Not someone in the industry."

"Why would he need a house sitter for a few years? Why didn't he just get rid of his place? Or find tenants?"

Tristan sat down in the chair across the room from her. "Why does it matter? He likes his place, and didn't want to worry about renters and problems for a few years while he's researching in Asia. I needed a place to stay at the time, and we worked out a deal."

Rory scrunched up her face and made a noise of disbelief.

"Are we going to get breakfast this morning? Because if not, I'm ordering room service. I'm hungry," Tristan said, changing the subject completely.

"You book flights home, I'll shower, then we'll go to breakfast." She pushed herself out of bed, and shuffled into the bathroom.

"Which one of your credit cards do you want me to use to book the flight?" he called after her.

She scowled before she turned around and went back into the bedroom, grabbed her purse of the table and extracted her American Express Black Card. "Here." She shoved the card at him and went back to the bathroom.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan grabbed his iPad and began searching for flights as he heard the water of the shower turn on. There were four or five flights to choose from, so he chose the one that had two first class seats available. The flight left at 5:30 in the afternoon, which would hopefully give Christopher time to take them to the airport. He tapped in their information, and put Rory's name in as Rory DuGrey, but before he finalized it, he changed it back to Gilmore. What if they didn't let her on the plane because her ID didn't match? Sure they were celebrities, but every once and a while the TSA people had to kick up a fuss to make a point. He put in her credit card number and called out to her, "I booked the flights, I hope you don't have a preferred airline or a mileage plan number, because I don't have the info."

He heard her respond, but couldn't understand it through the walls and the running water. He stood up and walked into the bathroom "What was that dear? I couldn't hear you."

"Tristan!" she exclaimed in shock. "Get out of here!"

He couldn't see her, she was behind the shower curtain and honestly he wasn't even looking. He just wanted to rile her up. "So about the air miles?" he asked again innocently.

"I don't give a fuck about the miles!" she growled. "Get OUT!"

He chuckled. "Soon there will be a time when you're begging me to join you in the shower."

"Not bloody likely."

He laughed as he returned to the main room, pulling the bathroom door shut behind him.

His phone rang. He was surprised because it was so early on the West Coast. He checked the caller ID. _James DuGrey. _Crap. He still hadn't called his mother back, and there was no way he wanted to talk to his father. But he knew if he didn't answer, it would only get worse.

"Hello," he finally answered wearily.

"So all these years of playing fast and loose finally caught up with you, huh? Finally knocked one up did ya?" his dad started, completely forgoing any form of greeting.

"So nice to hear from you too Dad," Tristan said sarcastically.

"At least you picked one with plenty of money. She's not bad to look at either. A little mousy maybe, but…" his father trailed off.

Tristan began to pace, grateful his father was only on the phone, otherwise he might deck the man. "What do you want Dad?"

"Your mother and I just want to meet our new daughter-in-law is all," he replied.

"Right. Try again." Tristan was doing his best not to growl into the phone. He found his father was easier to manage if Tristan could pretend he wasn't irritated. As soon as James figured out he was under Tristan's skin, there was no dealing with him.

His father sighed. "Your mother is all bent out of shape that you got married without telling her. And you haven't called her back."

"I'm on my honeymoon!" he exclaimed in response. "And besides, I haven't seen you guys in over a year, why the hell do you care if I got married."

His father merely mumbled some unintelligible words, having no excuse for his behavior. "We're still your parents, we deserve to know these things. And we want to meet your wife," he finally said.

"Fine," Tristan relented. "I'll call you when we're back in town and set up lunch."

He disconnected the call and sank down onto the edge of the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. He knew he'd have to deal with them, but he didn't want it to be this soon.

He heard a door open and glanced up to find Rory coming out of the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he snapped. "Our flight leaves at 5:30, you might want to text your dad."

"Okay," she said quietly.

He took a moment to check her out as she walked over to the other side of the bed to get her phone. She was in skinny jeans and a long belted cardigan; her feet were bare and her hair was still up in a towel. "Are you going to be ready to go to breakfast soon?" he asked gruffly.

"I'll just be a minute," she replied just as quietly as before, then she disappeared into the bathroom.

Tristan began tossing his belonging back into his suitcase while he waited.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind her, Rory dropped her faux calm. Something had happened to Tristan between him barging in on her shower and her exiting the bathroom. Her forced calm was reflex after years with Logan. Every once and while something would set him off, and she learned that she just needed to disappear until he worked whatever it was out. For the first year or so though, it got them into quite a few yelling matches. She didn't know how Tristan would react to her pushing back when he was obviously bothered, and she didn't think a public place the day after their wedding would be a good place to find out.

She bitched quietly to her self about his mood as she pulled her brush through her hair and forced it into a stubby ponytail. She ran the mascara wand over her eyelashes and quickly glossed her lips. As she exited the bathroom she dropped her toiletry case into her open suitcase and pulled on a pair of black ballet flats.

"I'm ready for breakfast." She kept her voice quiet and her tone calm, unsure of whether her five minutes of peace was enough to return his mood to normal.

"Good. I'm starving." He still seemed snarky but not quite as bad as before.

Rory snagged her handbag and waited by the door. Since she had a moment, she checked Tristan out. She didn't think she'd ever seen him in everyday wear. Unlike her, Tristan didn't have to worry about what he wore all the time. With the exception of the photos from the Bistro, she hadn't seen any tabloid snaps of him since Molly's World wrapped. Usually when she saw him, he was dressed for cameras. Today however, he looked different. He wore jeans that were of an unidentifiable brand, a long sleeved gray tee shirt that clung to his body in just the right places, and a pair of leather flip flops. He looked like an ordinary guy.

"Aren't your feet cold?" she asked as he walked out the door in front of her.

He snorted. "Nah. Unless I'm going out, I don't bother with shoes."

She processed that information and followed him down the stairs into the lobby.

"Are we going to eat breakfast here?" he asked.

She sniffed the air. "Whatever the chef is making smells amazing, so sure."

They wandered into the dining room and helped themselves to a small corner table. They were just seated when a waiter came out and handed them menus.

"The breakfast special is crepes Nutella," he said. "Can I get you some coffee?"

"Yes please!" Rory answered eagerly.

"None for me. Thanks," Tristan politely declined.

The waiter shifted his weight and glanced back and forth between them again. "Alright, well I'll give you a minute to look over the menu and I'll be back with the coffee."

Rory began to peruse the menu, and gasped a little when she got half way down the first page.

"What?" Tristan asked without looking up from his own menu.

"They have chocolate chip waffles here." She hadn't had those since she was 8, and she'd never seen them on another menu. She wasn't sure if she could bring herself to order them.

Tristan looked up. "You should order them," he said quietly. All earlier traces of irritation were gone from his voice.

"What if they're not the same?" she said hesitantly.

He sighed. "In all honesty they probably won't be the same. Is this where you used to get the waffles when you were a kid?" Rory shook her head no. "But maybe you can give them a new memory."

She looked down and studied her menu some more. Maybe he was right. But then, did she really want chocolate chip waffles to be associated with her sham of a marriage?

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked as he slid Rory's coffee in front of her and added two goblets of water to the table.

Tristan cleared his throat. "Yes. I'll have the farmer's scramble and a large orange juice, and she'll have the chocolate chip waffles. With whipped cream."

The waiter smiled as he jotted down the order. "Very good."

"Tristan!" Rory hissed, as the waiter returned to the kitchen. "I don't know if I wanted the chocolate chip waffles."

"Of course you did. Now instead of a birthday association, you can associate them with new beginnings."

Rory was momentarily stunned to silence. She took a few sips of her coffee and realized that Tristan actually made sense. And really, if it was too much, she could use her status as an actress to get away with only eating three bites. "So, do you want to tell me what upset you earlier?" she asked as she set her coffee cup down.

"Nothing." His voice was sullen, but not snappish, so she decided to press forward.

She leaned forward across the table, forcing him to stop staring straight down, and instead focus on her. "You went from playful torment to pissed off in 15 minutes, and I wasn't even there to irritate you!" she said in a low voice, not wanting to draw the attention of the few other diners in the room.

Tristan rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "If you must know, my dad called."

She merely raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

"They want to meet you."

"Well why wouldn't they?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He sighed again. "They're classic users Rory. They want to use our marriage to squeeze out another 15 minutes of fame."

Rory smiled. "Just as long as they don't expect me to endorse any products…"

Before Tristan could reply, a zaftig woman in a chef's coat came out holding their plates. "Farmer's scramble," she said setting the plate down in front of Tristan, "and chocolate chip waffles, with whipped cream, just like you like them." She set the dish in front of Rory.

"Just like I like them?" Rory stammered.

The woman smiled a genuine smile. "I'm Sookie Belleville. I used to make these for you every year on your birthday when you were little. Your mom used to bring you to the Inn I worked at and order these."

Rory examined the woman for a minute, and then something happened: she remembered her. "I remember you!" She stood up to hug the woman. "You used to make smiley faces with the whipped cream, and draw on eyebrows and hair with chocolate syrup!"

Sookie nodded, clinging to the girl in her arms. "I left these waffles on the menu as my own private tribute to your mom. Michel called me last night excited that you were staying here, and then when Miguel brought in an order for the waffles this morning, I knew they had to be for you."

Tears streaked down Rory's cheeks as she finally pulled back from the hug. "Tristan, they _are_ the same waffles." He just smiled at her, and she realized she should make introductions. "Sookie, this is Tristan DuGrey, my husband."

"Pleased to meet you," Tristan said as he extended his hand to greet her. "Your coffee is delicious."

Sookie grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his chair, enveloping him in a big hug. "I can't believe you're married Rory! It seems like just yesterday I was making birthday waffles for you."

Rory watched as Tristan patted her back mechanically. Sookie seemed to suddenly realize what she'd done, as she dropped her arms and stepped back. "I'm so sorry. I just got so excited!" The chef blushed a bright pink.

"It's alright," Tristan told her.

"Well I'll let you enjoy your breakfast. You just holler if you need anything."

Rory nodded, and watched Sookie disappear back into the kitchen. She sat back down and sliced into her waffle. She put the first bite in her mouth, and her childhood came rushing back to her in a flood, causing emotion to overflow from her eyes.

"Do you want to take these to our room so you can eat in private?" Tristan asked with what sounded like genuine concern.

She glanced around the room to find that no one was paying any attention to her. "It's okay," she said with a sniff. "The food is definitely something to cry about."

Tristan seemed to accept that, and took another bite of his scramble. "It really is good food."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Breakfast was eaten in almost complete silence. The food was delicious, but Tristan was more interested in watching Rory eat. It was like she was reliving a memory with each bite. He wondered if there was any food that would do that for him.

When the plates were practically licked clean Sookie came out to clear the table herself, and apologize for her earlier behavior, pressing her contact information into Rory's hands, and asking her to keep in touch. Tristan dropped a $50 on the table and followed Rory back to their room.

"So I'm up to $90 now?" she said as he shut the door.

"Yep."

"Glad to know I'm a generous tipper."

Tristan laughed as he checked the room to make sure all of his stuff was packed. "Do you need any help packing?" he asked.

Rory was tucking her boots into her bag. "Actually, all of my stuff is at my dad's. I need to go there and return his carry on and pack up my clothes."

Great. Sitting and waiting. "Alright," he said as he picked up his bag and waited for her to finish zipping hers. He carried them down stairs and took them out to the car while Rory returned the room keys.

He stood by the trunk of the car smoking a cigarette while he waited. He had a feeling his cigarettes would become few and far between in the near future.

"Honey, could you put that out? My dad will be really annoyed if the car smells like smoke when he gets it back," Rory called in an uber-sweet voice as she exited the inn.

He dropped the butt and ground it out in the gravel. He picked up the dead butt and pocketed it. He realized Rory was watching him as he did this. "What?"

"It's… nothing," she said. "I just didn't expect you to be so… conscious."

He shrugged and slid into the passenger seat.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Hello. Dad?" Rory called out when she entered her father's house. She didn't see his bike, but she wanted to check all the same.

Tristan followed her in carrying her suitcase. "So is all of your stuff in your old room?"

"Yep. And the sooner I get packed, the sooner we can go to Luke's for coffee."

"More coffee?" Tristan asked.

Rory gasped. "Of course more coffee. One can never have enough coffee. Besides, Lane will come have coffee with us and you can meet Jess."

"And this is a good thing because?" he asked. In the privacy of her father's house, his sarcasm was returning.

She let out an exasperated sigh as she opened the door to her old room. "If anyone happens to take pictures, you're hanging out with my friends. Plus, Jess has some journalistic pull, and Lane is a celebrity in her own right too. People will ask her about us."

Tristan groaned and flopped down on her bed, let the fun begin. "So now that no one else is here, how come you haven't lived here since you were eight?"

Rory bit her lip in concentration and pulled her large suitcase from the closet, opening it on the floor. "My dad kind of had a breakdown when my mom died," she said quietly.

"You said you lived with your grandparents for a year."

"Yeah. But after that, instead of moving back here he bought another house in Hartford. We lived there through out Molly's World. That's where you came for my birthday parties."

"Why did your dad keep this place?"

Rory shrugged, "I think he just couldn't let go of it. If he did that would be like letting go of my mom. He moved back here when I moved to LA."

She rapidly tossed items into her bag, not caring if they were folded, just wanting to finish packing so they could get out of the house.

"How did your parents meet?" he asked.

"My dad was a writer for Saturday Night Live when my mom was hired. He wrote a skit for her and it was love at first sight."

"How-" he started another question, but she cut him off.

"Can we please not talk about this right now? Being here is hard enough, I can't talk about it too."

Tristan seemed to accept her request. "Sorry. I'm just curious."

"I don't like to talk about it," she said trying not to sound angry or annoyed. He couldn't help it, he didn't know. She left the bedroom to check the bathroom for any miscellaneous items. She returned with another set of pajamas, her shampoo and conditioner, and a bottle of perfume. She packed them all into her case and zipped it closed.

Tristan merely watched her from the bed.

"Done!" she exclaimed. "Now coffee!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, so I thought they'd get back to LA, but apparently there's more that needs to happen in Stars Hollow. Sheesh. But next chapter, after coffee with Lane and a drive to the airport with Christopher, they will get back to LA. I promise.<strong>

**I don't own any of it. Please keep reading and reviewing! I do just love those little alerts!**

**S**


	13. Chapter 13

"Can I at least drive to Luke's?" Tristan asked as Rory lugged her suitcase down the steps to put it into the trunk of the car.

Rory huffed as the suitcase fell forward catching on the graveled path. "It's like two minutes away."

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

She exhaled sharply as she righted her suitcase. "Fine." After a moment she added, "Is my driving really that bad?"

"I just prefer to drive," he said simply as he took the keys from her hand. He unlocked the car, and slid behind the drivers seat. "You are so short!" he called as he adjusted the seat, and then the mirrors.

"Thanks," she panted as she struggled to heft her suitcase into the trunk. She came around the passenger side and climbed into the seat. "Thank you so much for helping me get my bag in the car." Sarcasm dripped from each word.

Tristan started the engine and rolled his eyes at her. "You're a big girl. If you can pack it, you should be able to carry it around."

She scowled at him and used her middle finger to scratch the bridge of her nose, causing him to laugh.

"Did you just flip me off?" he asked through the laughter.

She widened her eyes to look innocent. "Me? No sir. I was merely scratching my nose."

They both cracked up, and Tristan backed out of the driveway. "Which way to Luke's?'

"Drive down this street about three quarters of a mile. It'll be on the right."

"That's it?"

Rory nodded. "I told you, two minutes."

He put the car in drive and pulled onto the road. He made sure to drive exactly the speed limit if only to extend the length of his drive.

"Did you call Lane?" he asked as he drove down the street.

"No, I sent her a text. She'll meet us there."

Tristan nodded as he took in the information. "Where does she live?"

"She and Brian, Hep Alien's lead singer, bought a house right off of Main Street."

"She lives here all the time?" Tristan asked dubiously.

Rory shrugged. "The band tours a lot, so it's nice to have a place to come home to that actually feels like home."

He mulled over that concept as he parallel parked the car right in front of the Luke's sign. "Why are we getting coffee at a hardware store?"

"It's not a hardware store. When Luke's dad ran the place it was, but when he died, Luke turned it into a diner," Rory explained as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She opened the door and stepped onto the curb.

Tristan climbed out of the drivers seat and beeped the doors locked. "Let's go get some coffee," he said in a chipper voice. He extended his hand to Rory, and she took it, pulling him into the diner.

"Jess!" Rory called out when she opened the door. "I need coffee!"

"Sit down Gilmore, I'll get to you in a minute," a voice called from behind the curtain.

Rory pulled Tristan over to a table and settled into a chair, still holding his hand.

It was a quarter after 11, and surprisingly, the diner was empty. A tall dark haired man came out of the back room, looked over at Tristan and Rory, and went to the door to flip the sign from open to closed and lock the door.

"Don't do that!" Rory said. "I don't want to hurt Luke's business. And Lane is coming to have coffee with us."

Jess laughed. "Trust me, you won't hurt Uncle Luke's business at all. People will be lining up to come in as soon as I flip the sign to open just to see you and try and figure out why I closed. Lane will just come in anyhow. You know that." Jess looked at Tristan and extended his hand. "Jess Mariano."

Tristan dropped Rory's hand to take Jess's. "Tristan DuGrey." Jess gave his hand a firm shake that was more of a challenge than anything else.

Jess pulled out the chair across from them and spun it around, straddling the chair like a teenager. "Rory, what the fuck? I saw you two days ago and you didn't say a word, you sly minx."

She gave him a mysterious yet enchanting look. One that said _I know so much more than I'm telling you_. But before she could actually respond to him, there was a loud pounding on the door.

"Dammit Jess. Let me in!" Lane yelled.

He stuck his tongue out at her to taunt her before getting up to let her in. "You might want to learn some patience there, Kim."

Lane flipped Jess off and went promptly to the table to hug Rory. "I have been so worried about you. What's going on, tell me from the start!"

Rory looked at Jess. "Off the record?"

"Rolling Stone is probably going to want an article," he whined.

"Perfect. We'll give you an exclusive interview," she told him, "but not one that includes any of the stuff I'm about to tell Lane."

"Rory," Tristan warned.

Jess continued to whine, "My journalistic ethics!"

Rory looked first to Tristan. "Lane is one of my best friends, she deserves to know the whole truth. She'll do what she has to do to protect me." She then switched her focus to Jess. "If you'd rather, we can leave and give someone else the exclusive…"

"Fine," Jess huffed angrily. "I'll let you have your off the record conversation with Lane. Does that mean I get to be present for the conversation?"

Tristan leaned forward joining the conversation. "Not one word of the off the record stuff gets printed," he said to Jess in a low menacing voice.

"Dude, I would never hurt Rory. Besides, my word is my bond. If I lied to my sources, I'd pretty much be guaranteed to never get another interview again."

Rory reached over and patted Tristan's thigh in a reassuring manner. "I've got enough childhood dirt on him to keep him quiet anyhow," she told him with a giggle.

"Ror-ry," Jess whined.

She winked at him and turned her focus to Lane.

Lane had taken it upon herself to pour a cup of coffee and join them at the table. "So what really happened?"

Rory looked down at her hands, then at Lane. "I remember Tristan coming up to talk to me at the Hep Alien show… but the next thing I remember is waking up sick as a dog, with this on," she thrust her left hand in Lane's face, "and him in bed."

Lane gave Tristan a chilly gaze. "What were you doing at the Hep Alien show? I don't recall inviting you."

"Paris invited me," he said smoothly.

"And what do you remember about that night?" she asked in an accusing tone.

He sighed. "I remember dancing with girls, then having a drink with Rory. Then nothing until I woke up the next morning to hear her," he inclined his head at Rory, "retching in the bathroom."

"So you both got so drunk you blacked out?" Jess asked suspiciously.

Rory shrugged. "I honestly don't remember drinking that much. I had a glass of wine at dinner, and a couple of vodka tonics with a friend of Colin's. Then after Tristan came over, someone brought us martinis… but four drinks in three hours isn't that many." She looked at Tristan. "Do you remember how much you had to drink?"

He looked up at the ceiling trying to count, and finally shook his head. "I had a couple of beers when I got to the show, then a martini with you…"

"A guy Tristan's size would hold his liquor much better than that… especially with a liver as well trained as his," Jess said with a smirk. Tristan glared at him.

Lane suddenly looked up. "What if someone drugged you?"

Rory and Tristan exchanged looks. That was an entirely possible explanation.

"If that was the case, you can get an annulment," Lane continued.

Tristan sat perfectly still while Rory shook her head no. "The press knows too much already."

"So you're planning to stay married?" Lane asked incredulously.

"For the time being, yes," she answered.

"And you're going along with this?" Lane looked straight at Tristan.

"She's got a point. If we come out now and say we hate each other, but we were drugged, and we wanted to fool the world, it's going to make both of us look bad," he explained.

Jess shook his head. "So you're going to lie to the whole world."

"Exactly." Rory said firmly. "Look, I'm tired of living my life in front of the whole world. Hopefully, being married to Tristan will make me a whole lot less interesting and they'll all just back off."

Jess snorted. "You picked the wrong profession if you wanted privacy."

Rory snapped. "I don't mind the lack of privacy for the most part, but since Logan and I split up I haven't been able to do ANYTHING without critique. Everything I do, or don't do, is subject to strict scrutiny!"

Tristan put his hand on her shoulder. "It's okay Mol."

"I just want some semblance of my own life back. If that means staying married to Tristan, since he's willing, that's what I'm going to do," she whispered. The fight went out of her, and she leaned towards Tristan.

"What's in it for you?" Lane asked Tristan.

"Does it matter?" he asked in return. "Rory may trust you enough to disclose her secrets to you, but that doesn't mean I do."

"You hurt her and I'll kick your ass," Lane said vehemently.

Tristan nodded. "I stand forewarned."

The foursome sat in silence for a few minutes. The only sounds were those of coffee being consumed.

"So how are you going to play this?" Jess asked finally.

"Well," Rory cleared her throat. "You are going to write an article about us, and how blissfully happy we are. And Lane, if asked, is going to back it up 100 percent, enthusing about how happy I am and how she can't remember the last time she saw me so happy."

"Do I get to say mean things about Logan?" Lane asked eagerly.

Rory said, "No!" at the same time that Tristan said, "Yes!"

"No," Rory repeated firmly. "Leave Logan out of this."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"So, on the record," Jess started. "What happened?"

Rory gazed up at Tristan with a smile on her face. "Tristan and I ran into each other a while back at the Bistro in LA. We'd lost contact for a while after Molly's World ended, so we exchanged numbers and started talking again."

Tristan wrapped an arm around Rory's shoulder, pulling her close to him. "I'd recently been through a bad break up, and so had she, so we ended up helping each other through the difficult times."

"Pause!" Rory exclaimed, she waited for Jess to acknowledge that they were no longer on the record. She pulled away from him to look at him. "You just broke up with someone?"

"We'll talk about it later," he told her. She scowled at him, but returned herself to his side.

"So how did you end up in Atlantic City together?" Jess asked.

"Lane invited me to the private Hep Alien show, and our mutual friend Paris thought it would be a good birthday surprise to invite Tristan as well," Rory said.

Tristan leaned down and put his mouth to Rory's ear. "Paris is so going to kill you for that."

Rory grinned at him. "She deserves it!" she whispered back.

"No secrets at the table," Jess said pulling their attention back to him. "So, according to fan sites, Molly's World viewers are just over the moon about this… what do you two think?"

Rory sighed a dreamy sigh, "I think that where ever she is, Molly Taylor is elated at this turn of events."

"Personally, I don't care what Chad Michaels thinks about this, but I'm very happy with this turn of events," Tristan lied smoothly, borrowing Rory's phrase.

Jess went on for another half an hour or so, asking them questions, and asking Lane questions. Then finally he quit. "Okay, it's picture time."

"What?" Rory said nervously. "There's no photographer here, and we're not dressed for pictures."

"I can take the pictures," Jess assured her. "And the fact that you're not dressed for them is exactly why we take them. This will show you as being real."

"Real?" she repeated.

Jess sighed, and Lane spoke up. "Come on Rory, when was the last time you had your picture taken when you weren't dressed for it. Even when you go out in LA just to run errands, you're dressed for pictures. Every picture of you and Logan is one where you're dressed for an event. It's the perfect Hollywood romance. The realness of this will make that look faked."

"Come on Mol, it'll be fun," Tristan said.

"Chad!" she exclaimed with a groan. "You may end up regretting this. You look gorgeous, and I look… plain."

"You think I'm gorgeous?" Tristan asked curiously. Rory merely rolled her eyes in response.

Jess looked them both over. "Rory if you lose the ponytail, you'll be perfect. And I'm so noting in my article that you two call each other Chad and Molly."

"We have to have some nod to our humble beginnings," Rory said.

Jess left abruptly to go get his camera, and Lane came towards Rory reaching for her hair. "I'll lend you my brush, and do you have any lip gloss?" she asked her friend.

Rory nodded, and handed Lane her ponytail holder. She accepted the brush, and pulled it through her hair. It was still damp from the shower, so it curled just slightly at the ends. She dug through her purse for her lip gloss, and slicked a coat on her lips. "How do I look?"

"Gorgeous," Lane said.

"Gorgeous," Tristan repeated. He stared at her for a moment, until she smacked him.

"Nice enthusiasm there DuGrey."

"Fine. You're not hideous," he said honestly.

Rory forced a blush, "Such compliments will go to my head," she spat sarcastically.

Jess returned with his camera. "So I just want you doing normal stuff. First I think we'll get pictures of you two sharing a cup of coffee."

"You want me to share coffee?" Rory asked, offended at the thought.

"Yes. It'll be cute. The two of you will be side by side, you'll give Tristan a playful glare as he sneaks a sip of your coffee."

Rory harrumphed, and Tristan rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

For the next half an hour Jess and Lane posed them like dolls all around the diner. Sharing coffee, sharing fries, and curled up together reading the paper. Every day couple stuff.

"Alright. Last one. A sweet kiss."

"You've already got pictures of us kissing," Rory said.

Jess shook his head. "No I have pictures of Tristan kissing the top of your head, and you affectionately kissing his shoulder as you read the paper together. I need one of the two of you kissing each other."

Rory shook her head.

"What's the big deal? You've kissed before," Lane started. "I know you kissed during Molly's World, and Paris told me she saw you two kissing in Atlantic City."

Tristan sighed. "It's no big deal. Right Rory? Let's just get it over with."

"Okay," Rory said in a defeated voice. "You're right."

Jess moved them to where he wanted them, and soon enough, Rory's hands were grabbing Tristan's shoulders, and his were cupping her face. She closed her eyes, and he leaned down and kissed her.

He'd meant for it to be a chaste kiss. With a still-camera there was no way of knowing how long the kiss lasted, but as his lips pressed into hers, something happened. Her lips moved against his, and soon they were actually kissing.

He finally pulled back when he felt something wet against his thumbs. He looked down to find that she was crying.

"Excuse me," she said quietly. She moved around him and darted for the bathroom.

"What the hell?" Jess asked.

Tristan shrugged. Part of him wanted to go after her, but Lane was already on it. "Please don't print any pictures with her crying, and don't mention it in your article."

Jess had the nerve to look offended. "Dude, she's my friend, I would never."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory stood in the bathroom dabbing at her tears. She took slow deep breaths trying to calm her self. The last thing either one of them needed was pictures of her in tears surfacing, and the usual lunch crowd had begun to gather around the diner, peering in the windows as Jess took candid shots of them.

"Rory, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Lane asked as she burst into the bathroom.

"I'm fine," she lied. "Just a little overwhelmed."

Lane looked at her with concern. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Let's go back."

They returned to the diner and Rory forced herself to be chipper. "Sorry about that, I guess I must be allergic to Tristan's cologne. Being in such close proximity made my eyes water."

She met Tristan's gaze and silently dared him to contradict her. "Sorry Molly, I won't wear this kind any more."

"Well thanks for all of your help Jess. We'd better get going so you can open the diner," Rory said.

Jess nodded and stood to hug her goodbye. "I'll send you the draft and the proofs before the article goes to print," he told her quietly.

"Thanks," she whispered as she squeezed him close to her.

Lane hugged Rory and promised to call her soon, and Tristan shook hands with both of them, and soon the happy couple was exiting the building.

Tristan climbed back into the drivers seat and waited for Rory to climb into the passenger's seat.

"You want to tell me what happened back there?"

She shook her head.

"Come on Rory."

She shook her head a second time. "I will. But just not now."

He nodded in acquiescence, and started the car. "Where shall we go next?"

"We can just drive around if you want. You did mention wanting to drive without traffic."

He smiled his Chad Michaels smile at her. "Thanks Mol, you're the best," he delivered a line that Chad had used on Molly many times in the show's four years, any time Molly had done something to help Chad out.

"No problem Chad," she replied dreamily, just as Molly always had. But instead of giving him grief, she merely stared out the windows. "Just remember we need to leave my dad's by 2:45, so that only gives you an hour and half to drive around aimlessly."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

At 2:30, Tristan pulled the Mercedes into Christopher's driveway to find the man himself waiting on the front porch.

"Cutting it close aren't we?" he asked as he strode towards the car.

"Rory said to be back to 2:45," Tristan said quietly, gesturing to a sleeping Rory in the passenger seat. "Do you want me to leave the car running, and I can just climb in the back seat?" he offered.

Christopher shook his head. "Better wake her up and make sure she doesn't need to use the bathroom before we go."

Tristan reached over and gently shook Rory's arm. "Hon," he started. "We're at your dad's house. Do you want to use the bathroom before we head to the airport?"

She blinked her eyes a couple of times before Tristan came into focus. "Sure. Thanks." She opened her car door and stumbled out into the gravel. Christopher rushed around the car to grab her so she didn't fall.

"Tired huh?" he asked as he slung an arm over her shoulder.

She nodded as he led her into the house.

Tristan stepped out of the car and walked a few steps away to have a cigarette while he waited. Christopher returned a moment later.

"You really should quit smoking," he said as he approached. He nodded in response, but didn't say anything, he didn't want to come off as rude. "It's not that I care about your health per se, but second hand smoke is bad for those around you, like my daughter."

Tristan took the final drag off his cigarette and stubbed it out, again pocketing the butt, and Christopher spoke again. "I'm not sure what it is my daughter sees in you, but know this, if you upset her, you will answer to me."

The look in Christopher's eyes left no room for misinterpretation.

"Look Sir. I know you don't know me," he started.

"I know you. I remember you from Molly's World. You were the selfish immature brat that got the show cancelled."

Tristan ignored him and continued talking. "But Rory chose me, and I'm going to do my best to make her the happiest woman in the world."

Before Christopher could respond, Rory appeared, "Dad, are you giving Tristan a hard time?" she called from the porch.

"Of course not Angel, he's just telling me how he intends to make you the happiest woman in the world."

"Don't worry Mol, your old man doesn't scare me," Tristan lied jovially as he clapped Christopher on the shoulder. "He's just doing his fatherly duty, making sure you're well cared for." He was glad they were standing outside, because all of the lying he was doing was beginning to make him nervous, and when he was nervous, his body temperature shot up and he began to sweat.

Rory had come to his side by the time he finished talking. She put a hand on his shoulder and popped up on her toes to peck his cheek. "Be nice Daddy," she scolded her father.

"I just want what's best for you," her father replied.

"And that's Tristan."

She climbed into the passenger seat and waited. Tristan handed her father the keys and climbed into the passenger seat behind Rory. He put his hand on her shoulder and she reached up and squeezed it.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The drive to the airport was uneventful. Rory and her father talked about her current and upcoming projects, and Tristan just sat in the back seat listening. It was a good way to gain information on her life. He merely nodded along as though he already knew all of the stuff she was saying.

At the airport, Tristan unloaded the trunk as Rory hugged her father goodbye. "You call me when you land," he said.

"It'll be probably be close to midnight your time," she told him.

He sighed, pulling her in for another hug. "Then text me."

"Will do," she said.

"Tristan, it's good to see you again," he said, offering his hand.

Tristan took his hand and gave it good firm shake. "You too Sir. You'll have to come visit when we get settled in LA."

Christopher nodded. "I'll do that. Now you take care of my baby okay?"

"I'll guard her with my life," he said giving his most convincing smile.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The flight back to LA was as uneventful as the drive to the airport. Since Tristan booked the flight he had the window seat. He and Rory signed autographs for the other first class passengers, then once they reached cruising altitude Tristan decided to watch a movie on his iPad, and Rory pulled out her book and her iPod. They cuddled together but each did their own thing.

After the in flight meal Tristan and Rory both tried to doze off. He leaned up against the window and she leaned against him. While Tristan managed sleep, it evaded Rory. Her mind kept returning to their kiss earlier in the afternoon. She reached up and absentmindedly rubbed her lips.

_The moment his lips touched hers, she was taken back to the first time they kissed, more than ten years before, on the set of Molly's World._

_It was the series finale, Molly's senior prom. While she went with Chip, her dream sequence was a night with Chad, ending in a good night kiss. _

_By that final season Rory and Tristan hated each other for their own various reasons. The last thing either party wanted to do was kiss. _

_Tristan had long ago exposed, and then ridiculed, Rory's crush on him. And since he knew the show was cancelled, he no longer cared about work. He showed up late, often surrounded by his friends, in a cloud of smoke. He even showed up drunk on occasion. _

_Rory had made Tristan miserable by being the favorite. She was always on time, always had her lines down, and never caused any scandals. She was too busy trying to make up for the loss of her mom and make her dad happy. _

_In her efforts to make her dad happy, she did everything her father asked of her. At age 17, instead of having dates like a normal girl, her father wanted to play up her naïve character and increase her appeal to the younger audience. So any dates she had were purely publicity stunts, set-ups with the teen hunks in the Tiger Beat Magazine. Dates always included cameras, and were geared towards the younger generation. Sharing a pizza at the local pizza parlor, or bowling at the well lit bowling alley. Nothing that could be considered risqué at all. Nothing that ever even ended in a good night kiss. _

_So despite the fact that she hated Tristan, she was looking forward to filming the final episode of Molly's World, and finally getting to kiss a boy. She was so nervous that she just wanted to get it over with._

_Tristan was an hour late that day. He wreaked of cigarette smoke so badly that it made Rory's eyes burn. He tasted of smoke, booze, and the over powering flavor of mouthwash. The first take, just to be an ass, he crammed his tongue in her mouth. "Isn't this what you've always wanted Mary? You're finally kissing me," he'd said snidely after the director called cut. She'd forced herself to remain professional, take after take, as they just couldn't get the shot they wanted. _

_In the end it had taken 27 takes to get the kiss just right, and after they wrapped for the day, Rory went home to brush her teeth several times in a row and cry herself to sleep._

Rory shuddered at the memory. The kiss for Jess hadn't been anywhere near the same as that first one. Instead Tristan tasted like coffee and something uniquely him, and he hadn't crammed his tongue into her mouth. The kiss was soft and sweet, with just the right amount of pressure. It was the kiss she wanted for Molly and Chad all those years before. It was the kiss she wanted for her first kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Stars Hollow did not want to let these two go! But alas, they're enroute to LA. <strong>

**I don't own any of it. I just enjoy playing with the characters. **

**Please read and review!**

**S**


	14. Chapter 14

"Let the games begin," Rory whispered to Tristan as they stepped off the plane. They were back in LA, and that meant cameras everywhere. They had to be on their game every time they left the house, because just about every third person was a member of the paparazzi or trying to be.

Tristan carried his carry on in one hand and wrapped his free arm protectively around Rory's shoulder, and they headed towards baggage claim.

"Did you reserve a car?" Rory asked quietly, keeping a happy grin on her face.

"Actually my car is in the parking garage," he admitted.

Rory sighed without losing her smile. "This is going to be so much fun getting home," she said.

Tristan also held a smile in place as he replied. "I didn't know I was going to come home married Sweetheart. No one bothers me anymore. I can drive around without a mob."

As they reached the baggage carousel there was a familiar gaggle of paps. They weren't waiting for her and Tristan specifically, no one knew their flight info, but they hung out at arrivals, waiting to see who came in.

"Rory! Tristan! Over here!" one of the guys called.

"Ignore it," Tristan said through his smile, as though Rory had never dealt with them before.

They continued to try and get attention with catcalls and whistles, anything for a reaction, but Rory and Tristan remained focused on the carousel that had just come to life.

Rory's bag was one of the first ones to come down, so Tristan handed Rory his carry on and went to retrieve the bag.

"Rory! Over here!" one of the guys shouted loudly. She ignored it until she felt a hand on her arm, trying to physically turn her attention.

"Let go of me," she said firmly, trying to wrench her arm from the grip.

It wasn't a tight grip, but it wasn't one that was going to be given up easily either. "Come on, just one question!" he said.

Rory shook her head, and tried again to free her arm.

Tristan came back towards them with a big smile on his face and her bag in his hand. When he saw the man gripping her arm, his face contorted into rage. "Get your hand off my wife!" he yelled. The man dropped Rory's arm like it was hot, but that didn't stop Tristan from continuing forward in a rage. "How dare you!" he shouted at the group of press, then he turned his attention to Rory. "Are you okay?" he asked with more gentleness that Rory would imagine him capable of.

"I'm fine," she replied quietly. "He was just trying to get my attention."

Flashes had exploded all around them, as the cameras captured Tristan in a rage. "Tristan! Tristan! When did you and Rory start seeing each other?" They hoped provoking anger would get him to talk.

He ignored the cameras and pulled out the handle on Rory's suitcase to pull it behind him. "Could you please grab my bag?" he asked.

"You're not going to carry both of them?" Rory asked, loudly enough for the paps to hear, batting her eyelashes at him.

He knew where she was going with this. "If I'm carrying both bags, how can I make sure I keep an arm around you?" he teased back, lightening the mood considerably.

"Oh all right," she conceded. She towed his carry on, and he towed her giant suitcase. All the while he managed to keep a protective arm around her shoulder. They headed for the car, with the cameras in tow.

After Tristan kicked her suitcase for the fourth time because of his long legs, she stopped walking.

"What?" he asked. She set down his case and reached for her own. "You want to trade?"

She smiled at him. "No, I just want to make it so you stop kicking my suitcase. I happen to like this one." She clicked the tiny button on the top of the handle causing it to swivel in an ergonomic manner, allowing it to be dragged a few inches further behind him. "There."

She picked up his bag, and wrapped her free arm around his waist so he could resume his protective position. "Now where did you park?"

"D-7. The elevator is on the right," he said as he led her towards the car.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

By the time they reached the car, there was one lone member of the press following them. Rory had her suspicions that the rest were just a phone call away.

"Here it is," Tristan said as he stopped behind a gray BMW X5 to fish the car keys out of his pocket. He hit the button and the hatch popped open. Rory set the bag she was pulling next to him, and moved around to the passenger's side of the car.

She settled into the seat and waited for Tristan to join her in the car. As she waited she turned her mobile back on and texted her father to let him know she had arrived safely. Finally the driver's door open and Tristan climbed behind the wheel. "This car isn't nearly as flashy as I expected it to be," Rory said with a smile.

"I outgrew the need for flashy cars a long time ago." While Rory had meant to tease him, his response was surprisingly serious. He put the car in gear and reversed out of the spot.

As they wound through the levels of the garage, the paparazzi that had fallen off on the trail through the garage slowly rejoined the caravan. Tristan paid for the parking and merged into traffic heading west.

Rory gripped the door nervously as cars weaved in and out of traffic around them, trying to get pictures, but between the tinted windows and the dark of night there were no pictures to be had. As the traffic lessened slightly, she relaxed a little. "So, did you really just have a bad break up too?" she asked finally. She'd been thinking about it ever since he mentioned it with Jess earlier, but first, after her emotional meltdown, she didn't want to ask, and then later, she didn't want anyone to over hear.

Tristan shrugged. "What break up is ever good?"

"There really is an ex?" Rory was surprised. She half expected that he made the whole thing up for Jess.

He nodded.

"Really?"

"What did you expect Rory?" he snapped. "I'm 33 years old, not 23 years old. I actually have relationships, not merely a string of one night stands."

"I-," she stalled not knowing how to respond.

"Just because I don't live my life in the press doesn't mean I don't have a life. So yes, to answer your question, I did just break up with some one. It wasn't a particularly harsh break up, but it wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs either."

She reached out to touch his arm and he snapped again. "No one can see us here, you don't have to pretend to be a caring wife now!"

She pulled her hand back as though he'd actually bitten her. Tears prickled in her eyes. She was surprisingly hurt by his words. Instead of saying anything, she focused on the scenery.

Her focus on the scenery only lasted a few minutes, her curiosity over Tristan's most recent relationship was too hard to overcome. "So why did you break up?"

Tristan sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. "Why does it matter?"

"I'm curious," she admitted. "Besides, the whole world knows why Logan and I broke up."

"Why did you and Logan break up?" he asked.

"You know the answer to that Tristan, it's been all over the papers."

He glanced at her, then back to the road. "No actually, I don't. I know you broke up. But really I only look at the pictures. I've worked in this business just as long as you have, which is long enough to know that the stories are crap."

Rory looked back at him. "I asked you first," she answered childishly. "And frankly, we've spent the last 24 plus hours dealing with my drama, and digging up my past, I think it's time for a little quid pro quo."

They drove in silence for a few miles. Rory waiting for Tristan to answer, and Tristan deciding if he was going to answer her question. Finally, he spoke. "We broke up because she liked that I was famous more than anything else."

"I'm going to need more than that."

"Her name is Danica Marin. I met her on the set of my last project-"

Rory interrupted for clarification, "This World War Two miniseries?"

"No, the project before that."

"Which was?" Rory asked. Tristan glared at her. "What? I don't stalk you on IMDb."

"It was a B-list frat comedy," he finally said. "Anyhow. Danica was an extra, and one day we had a major equipment malfunction and got stuck together for several hours waiting for a repair. We got to talking, and… one thing led to another."

"You slept with her!" Rory exclaimed.

Tristan was startled by her loud exclamation and swerved. "No! Well, eventually yeah, but not then. We dated for two months! Is that what you think of me? That I'm some sort of lothario? You really think I just go from one night stand to one night stand?" He was obviously offended by the notion.

"I, uh, well," she stammered, then got her spirit back. "If I remember correctly, you had a different girl with you every day of filming."

"That was more than ten years ago! I was young, rich, and stupid. You don't think it's possible that I grew up at all?" he shouted.

Rory remained motionless in the passenger seat.

"Speak!" he finally barked, annoyed with her silence.

"Well I went from hating you to married to you over night…" she trailed off.

He let out a growling exhale. "You know what, I don't need this shit. My life was going along just fine before I ran in to you. But for the record, prior to waking up with you, it had been at least two years since I'd had a one night stand!"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You know, if I were to base all of my opinions on what I know of you from Molly's World, I would bet that you and Logan broke up because you wouldn't put out!"

"How dare you!" she shrieked, enraged with anger. "I was not even 18 when we finished filming that show!"

"I'm not that much older than you are Sweetheart. If you're going to treat me like I'm still a 20 year old kid, then why shouldn't I treat you like you're still a 17 year old priss?"

Rory crossed her arms across her chest and sank back into the passengers seat, thinking about what Tristan had said. He was right. She didn't think he'd changed a bit, and she was refusing to consider any evidence to the contrary. She sighed loudly. "I'm sorry Tristan. You're right. If we're going to make this work, even temporarily, I need to let go of the past."

"Thank you," he said, acknowledging her apology. "And for what it's worth, I know you're not the same priss you were at 17, most of the time." He shot her a small smile.

"So, if it wasn't because you refused to put out, why did you and Logan break up?"

"I don't think we're doing talking about your break up yet," she responded, changing the subject. "What do you mean she liked that you were famous more than anything else?"

He shook his head, but gave in anyhow. "Fine. I'll reopen the wounds and tell you all the sordid details. But don't say I never did anything for you."

Rory chuckled at his blatant martyrdom.

"At first, we just had fun hanging out. We had a lot in common, or so I thought. Difficult families, career struggles, that kind of thing. The first few weeks were really casual; she was laidback and easy going. Whatever I wanted to do, she was up for." He looked at Rory to find her surprisingly engaged in his story. "But then something changed, and she started getting pushy. She didn't want low key anymore; she wanted to go out. Fancy restaurants and trendy night spots. Places where I had to make reservations. Places where she could be seen."

Rory listened intently, having been used a time or two herself, she could understand why he would be bothered.

"Finally," he continued, "it all came to head when she wanted to go to some red carpet premier and I refused."

"And that was it?" Rory asked.

He nodded. "Well basically."

"Basically?" she repeated skeptically.

"You know, the post breakup hangover," he explained, hoping that he could get away without having to actually describe it.

Rory gave him a confused look. "What's that? Binge drinking after a split?"

He shook his head. "No, you know. Where you meet up to talk about something and end up in bed together…"

"Ohhh."

"You've never had that?" Tristan asked, honestly curious.

She shook her head no. "I guess I'm just not that type of girl." Tristan bristled at her words, and she jumped to clarify. "I'm not saying I'm not the type of girl that would sleep with an ex, I'm saying that I'm not the type of girl that guys want to sleep with once they break up with me."

Her words seemed to relax Tristan. Apparently self-deprecating was better than judgmental.

"On that note," he started, "what happened with you and Logan?"

"I wanted to get married. He didn't."

"That's really why you broke up?" Tristan asked.

She nodded. "I loved Logan, but not enough to spend the rest of my life as his girlfriend. I know it's a little cliché, but I actually would like to be a wife and mother someday."

"You're not expecting us to have kids in this sham are you?" Tristan asked, suddenly horror struck. "Because that might be kind of hard with your no sex rule."

Rory laughed. "No. I want to have kids with someone I'm head over heels in love with, because we both want to have kids."

"And that wasn't Logan?" Tristan asked.

"Call me old fashioned, but I want to be a wife before I'm a mother," she told him, and then went on, "I have nothing against people that chose to have kids with their partners, or have kids then get married, or have kids by themselves even, it's just not what I want for me."

Tristan took a moment to take in her words. "I can respect that."

"So how much longer?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat to try and determine where they were.

"About five minutes away. I'm sorry, I don't have a rooster to judge by."

She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed.

Looking in her side view mirror, she could see that they were still being followed by a few cars. "How long do you think we'll be high interest for the gossip mags?"

"At least until Jess's story is published," Tristan said. "Probably another few weeks after that."

Rory sighed. "I can't wait to have my life back."

"Aren't you used to all of this by now?" Tristan asked.

"I was. When Logan and I were together, our pictures got taken everywhere we went. But there was nothing to it: nothing scandalous to worry about. _Gilmore and Huntzberger to grocery shopping._ How is that even news worthy? But after we broke up… well you saw the pictures. Everything had some hidden meaning to it. I just can't wait for the trip to the grocery store to just be that. Not a huge deal because I bought tampons or a bottle of wine."

Tristan snorted. "Someone made a big deal of the fact that you bought tampons."

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Didn't you see the _Gilmore grief stricken over miscarriage _article?"

"Okay," Tristan finally conceded. "I can see why you want your life back."

He turned the car down a small residential street, and hit a button on the door of the car to open the gate. Once the door opened, he pulled inside the gate just far enough to let the doors close without hitting the car, but not far enough that a member of the caravan could get a car in behind him. As soon as the gate was completely closed, he drove around to the garage, listening to a chorus of annoyed honks behind them.

"Do they really think you're going to let them in?" Rory asked.

"No. But somehow that doesn't make them less annoyed when it doesn't happen."

He pulled into the garage, and they both got out of the car.

"Here we are," he said. "Home sweet home."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Back in LA. Finally. Although they haven't gotten very far yet. For some reason, these two seem to have it out in cars. <strong>

**I still don't own anything… including BMW or IMBd. (Although there are actors that I stalk on IMDb.) **

**I hope you're all enjoying the story. Please read and review! **

**S**


	15. Chapter 15

Rory viewed the house feeling filled with anticipation. She was going to live here for the next year, what if she hated it? What if it was decorated in frat-boy chic, with beanbag chairs, milk crate tables, and nudie pics adorning the walls? Tristan walked into the house, and she tentatively followed behind him, trying to fight the urge to cover her eyes and peek from between her fingers.

Her worries were completely baseless. She stepped into a large great room, to find it tastefully decorated in modern contemporary furniture. Large comfortable pieces in dark rich colors, to contrast the light tiled floors. The art was Asian inspired, but given the John was researching in Asia for a few years, she should have expected that.

The kitchen was huge; filled with the latest gadgets and beautiful stainless steel appliances, and the dining room had seating for 12. Immediately she started planning a dinner party in her head.

"Oh hey, could you take your shoes off?" Tristan asked, breaking her out of her planning.

She slipped out of her ballet flats, and was pleasantly surprised to find the floor warm beneath her feet. "It's warm!"

"Radiant floors."

"I'm going to put our bags upstairs," Tristan informed her as she headed off to check out something else. "If you want to wait, I'll give you the tour."

She nodded, halting in her path to see the back of the house. "I'm getting my own room right?" she asked.

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Sure. But you get to explain it to the maid, and convince her not to talk to the paparazzi."

"Tristan!" she yelped, scowling at him. "How often is she here?"

"She's only here Monday through Friday from 8 am to noon."

Rory sighed in frustration. "Why do you possibly need a maid for 20 hours a week?"

He shrugged. "She's John's maid. Good help is hard to come by. He didn't want to let her go, and she wouldn't let him just pay her to stay available."

"What does she do for four hours a day?" Rory asked.

"I don't know," he said in an annoyed voice. "Whatever it is that maids do. She cleans, makes beds, does laundry, and cooks. And anything else I may need done."

Tristan resumed his trip upstairs and Rory followed closely behind him, trying to determine a course of action. "I can get up before she comes and make the bed myself. She'll never know we're not sharing a bedroom. I'll just tell her that I need the closet space, and the guestroom is my dressing room."

"Good luck with that."

At the top of the stairs, Tristan took a left and entered the largest bedroom. "Well I suppose this is my room then," he said, leaving his suitcase by the door.

Rory glanced around the room. It was huge. It had a large king sized bed on one wall, and a fireplace with a sitting area on the other end. It even had large bay windows on each end, one of which contained a chaise lounge and a little table with a lamp. It would be a perfect reading nook. Between the two windows was a door leading out to a balcony that spanned the width of the room.

Tristan took Rory's suitcase with him as he left the room. "You can pick which ever of the empty rooms you want."

He left her suitcase in the hall and went back downstairs, leaving her alone to pick her room. "Holler when you're done and I'll give you the rest of the tour."

She opened the door to the room closest to his to find it sparsely decorated. There was a queen sized bed and a dresser with a mirror on top of it. She sat on the edge of the bed and decided it would probably be best if she picked the room closest to Tristan's to be her 'dressing room'. She tugged her suitcase into the room and began to unpack.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan pushed open the French doors leading to the backyard and stepped out of the house. He wandered out towards the pool, and finally settled himself in a lounge chair. He pulled the packet of cigarettes from his pocket and extracted one, examining it thoroughly before finally lighting it.

He leaned back in the chair and took a long drag on the cigarette, blowing smoke rings as he exhaled. How on earth was he going to pull this off for a year? He tried to imagine their daily life, but he couldn't really see anything. He knew that when she was with Logan, her life was filled with parties and dinners and premieres and openings. He did not want that life. But from the sound of things, she didn't want that life anymore either.

Tristan thought back over the last year of his own life. It was pretty quiet. He worked, he auditioned for more work, he worked out, and occasionally he dated. With the exception of the fact that his work put him in the spot light, he had a very normal life. No red carpets. No restaurant openings. And for the most part, he liked it that way.

He was beginning to regret his decision already. Despite what Rory thought, he hadn't said yes as much for the money as he had for the boost to his reputation. He'd lost out on the last three parts he'd really wanted because of his reputation. He'd nailed the auditions, but in the end, they cast someone else that they thought was more reliable. Before she'd even mentioned that she would make people see him differently, he'd already thought of it. But what if it blew up in his face? Instead of being known as merely a hard to work with bad boy, he could end up as the guy who broke Rory Gilmore's heart.

Tristan took another long drag of his cigarette and forced himself to try and see everyday life with Rory. He couldn't see all of it. He could see himself sitting at functions as her plus one, or maybe taking a paparazzi stalked walk down the beach together. Try as he might, he couldn't see any sort of a private life. He shook his head to clear the thoughts and decided to head back inside.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan's stomach growled as he reentered the house. He made his way to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door to find that Amanda had stocked the fridge with individual portions of his favorite things. That was the best thing about the maid. The cooking. She could make anything, and loved to cook. So she'd make up whatever he wanted, and package it in individual servings, leaving instructions on each carton as to how to heat it up.

He pulled out a package labeled Cobb Salad, (Just Add Lettuce), and grabbed a bag of lettuce from the crisper drawer.

"Rory, are you hungry?" he called out. He waited for a minute, but got no response. "Rory!" he called again.

After another minute of silence, he got annoyed and stormed up the stairs. She may not like him, but at least she could answer him.

"Rory!" he said again at the top of the stairs. Nothing. He was beginning to see red. He began to open random doors, starting to the right of the stairs. The first three doors opened to empty rooms. He opened the last door, before his room and found Rory's suitcase next to the door. This must be the room she chose. He flicked on the light and called her name again. He turned off the light as soon as he saw her. She was sprawled out across the bed in an old tee shirt and a pair of pants similar to the ones she'd worn the night before, sound asleep. He shook his head and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He returned to the kitchen and poured the bag of lettuce into a colander to rinse it before dumping it into a large bowl and emptying the contents of the container labeled Cobb Salad. What had he gotten himself into?

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

_Beep beep beep._ Rory's alarm went off at 7am. She swatted at her nightstand to find that there was no nightstand. As the alarm continued to beep, she pushed herself into an upright position and tried to determine where she was. Oh right. Tristan's house.

She got out of bed and turned off the alarm, which was sitting on the dresser across the room. She shook her head to clear the fuzz. Why had she set an alarm for 7 am? She didn't have to work and it was way too early to be up. She was crawling back into bed when she remembered: the maid.

Rory made her way over to the door and turned on the light. She fumbled as she tried to make the bed. She was never very good at making beds, especially not before she had her coffee.

It took her a full five minutes, but in the end Rory decided that the bed looked as though it had never been slept in. She grabbed her book, her phone, and a hair tie and made her way down the stairs.

The warm tiles surprised her again as her bare feet hit the main floor. Luckily the room had enough natural light that she could find her way into the kitchen, and see the light switches on the wall. As soon as the lights were on she began to search for coffee and filters. She found the coffee filters with ease, they were in the cupboard right above the coffee maker. However the coffee itself was elusive. She checked all of the ceramic containers on the counter, all of the cupboards she could find, and both the freezer and the refrigerator. Finally, she gave up. She set her book and her phone on the breakfast bar and padded back up the stairs.

"Tristan?" she whispered as she tapped lightly on his door. "Tristan!" When there was no answer, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She expected to find him still sleeping. Instead, she found an empty bed. Rumpled, so she knew he'd slept there, but empty. She went around to the other side of the bed and rumpled it as well.

"Tristan?" she called out loudly. "Where are you?"

No response. She let out a frustrated huff and pulled the door closed as she exited the room. She returned to the first floor and picked up her things and went to curl up on the couch and read.

Rory had no clue how long she'd been reading when she heard the sound of the door opening. She looked up, prepared to snap at Tristan for leaving without telling her. She was quite surprised to find a young girl standing in front of her. She couldn't be more than 22. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and fresh faced. Before Rory could say anything, the girl started speaking.

"Where's Tristan?" she asked.

Rory shrugged. "Got any coffee?" she asked.

Instead of answering her question, the girl ignored it and went on. "If Tristan's not here, you really shouldn't be here."

"Have you talked to Tristan lately?" Rory tried again.

"Recently enough."

"I'm Rory," she said, holding out her hand.

The girl sneered at her. "And I care because?"

Before Rory could answer, another door opened, and Tristan came in wearing workout shorts and tank top. "Tristan, your new flavor won't leave. She's trying to make conversation!" The girl said this as though conversation was poisonous.

"Amanda, behave," Tristan said sharply. Rory smiled and Tristan turned on her, "And Rory, leave Amanda alone."

"I just wanted coffee," Rory said.

"Who is this chick?" Amanda asked.

Tristan looked down at the floor, then glanced at Rory, before answering Amanda. "This is my wife."

"YOUR WIFE!" Amanda shouted. "How could you marry this…"

Tristan cut her off. "Enough Amanda. Rory, Honey, why don't you go get dressed and I'll take you out for coffee."

Rory headed upstairs wondering just how bad she looked. Even on a bad day most people recognized her at a glance.

She headed into her room to find some clothes, grateful that she had packed for more than the weekend to visit her dad. She pulled out a dress and a cardigan. She picked up her make up case and headed out of the bedroom into Tristan's room, and into the master bathroom.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan watched Rory walk up stairs, and waited until he heard the water start running in the shower before he returned his attention to Amanda, who was staring at him as though he had grown another head.

"Yes?" he asked finally.

Amanda opened and closed her mouth several times before finally speaking. "You married some girl over the weekend? Are you crazy?"

Tristan sighed. "She's not some girl."

"Well she's sure as hell not Danica, the girl you were seeing up until about a month ago. And I know there hasn't been anyone else in your life."

"You're right, she's not Danica. But how do you know there's no one else in my life?"

She laughed bitterly. "I'm your maid Tristan. I do your laundry. Including your sheets and towels. Don't you think it's apparent to me when you have company?"

Her honesty made Tristan blush. While he never claimed to be a monk, the thought that someone knew how much – or how little – sex he had disturbed him. "She's just gone through a rough break up. We've been on the down low," he lied.

"You don't seem like a love at first sight kind of guy to me," Amanda said finally.

"I've known her for years," Tristan said. "Seriously, you don't recognize her?"

Amanda shook her head. "Why would I? Is she famous?"

Tristan laughed. Rory would appreciate that she had one tiny bit of anonymity. "Oh Mandy, I love that you live under a rock," he said as he tossed an arm around her shoulder and led her to the kitchen. "Do you think I could get chicken salad for lunch?"

"Who is she Tristan?" Amanda asked.

He smiled and headed upstairs laughing, leaving his maid to stew over her questions.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The shower was still running when Tristan entered his bedroom. He expected to find the bathroom door locked, but it twisted with ease as he attempted to gain access. He was still laughing when he entered the bathroom.

"Tristan! Get out of here!" Rory scolded in a hiss.

"Come on Molly, with the frosted glass on the shower doors even if I was looking all I would see is knees and shoulders. This isn't the 1920's. That's not considered showing skin."

Rory groaned. "What do you want then? And why are you laughing?"

"She has no idea who you are," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Apparently there's one person over the age of twelve on the planet who has no idea who you are, and it's my maid."

Rory laughed from inside the shower. "How long do you think my anonymity will last?"

"It'll be gone before you get back down stairs… but I thought you could appreciate it for a moment up here," he said as his chuckle finally died down.

"Thanks for that," she told him sincerely.

"Anytime," he replied. "That shower's taking quite a while, do you need some help in there?"

"Tristan!" she gasped and blushed simultaneously. "Get out!"

"One day soon… I'm telling you." He shook his head and headed for the bedroom. "Hurry up then. If you want to get coffee I'll need to shower." He closed the door behind himself and moved towards his closet to strip off his sweaty workout gear.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her hair and another wrapped around herself. She padded out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Normally she would dress in the bathroom, but she didn't want to keep Tristan from his shower; she desperately needed coffee.

"It's all yours," she called.

She heard the closet door open, and saw Tristan come out wearing only his boxer briefs. "Thanks," he said. She heard the whoosh of cloth flying through the air and turned in time to catch a glimpse of his bare ass as he entered the bathroom closing the door behind him.

She flushed slightly and cringed as his underwear hit the ground, but kept moving forward. She got dressed quickly, and then returned to the bathroom.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked. "Come to get a better look at the goods?"

She snorted. "You wish. I'm in desperate need of coffee, so I'm trying to finish getting ready while you're in the shower." She hung her towels up on the back of the door and began to comb her hair. "Besides, as you so helpfully pointed out earlier, all I would see if I was looking would be knees and shoulders."

Tristan chuckled. "Actually, since I'm a little taller than you are, you may get a nice view of my chest."

"And why would I want to see that?" she asked.

"According to… well, several people who shall remain nameless, I have a great chest."

"They're delusional," Rory retorted, keeping her focus on her own image in front of her, and not checking out Tristan in the mirror.

"Suit yourself," he replied and then proceeded to ignore her.

Rory rushed through the process of putting her make up on, pulled her hair back in a headband, and made her way downstairs to wait. Close proximity to naked Tristan was just asking for trouble.

She went straight for the kitchen, hoping that Amanda had miraculously found and made coffee. She hopped up on to a stool and sniffed. "Still no coffee I see."

"I'm so sorry Ms. Gilmore. I… I didn't… I didn't… realize," Amanda stammered nervously.

Rory smiled. "It's no big deal, I promise."

The girl continued to scurry around the kitchen, refusing to look up and meet Rory's eye, or engage her in conversation at all.

"You can just treat me like a normal person," Rory assured her.

"Yes ma'am," she mumbled.

Rory sighed and stood up. "Tell Tristan I'm waiting for him in the car."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Rory?" Tristan called as he jogged down the stairs.

"She's waiting in the car," Amanda told him.

Tristan sighed and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Why is she doing that?" He hoped he hadn't inadvertently pissed off his wife.

Amanda shrugged. "I'm not really sure. She was trying to talk to me, but I didn't know what to say…"

"What did she say?"

"She said to treat her like a normal person," Amanda repeated. "But how am I supposed to do that? She's famous!"

Tristan snorted. "I'm famous and you have no problem treating me like a normal person," he reminded her.

"But she's REALLY famous!"

He merely shook his head, trying to ignore her unintentional insult. "Well hurry up and figure it out, because she's not going anywhere." He resumed his path to the garage.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Why are you waiting the car?" he asked as he climbed behind the drivers seat.

Rory shifted in her seat slightly. "I didn't want to make Amanda feel awkward and uncomfortable."

"It's your house too, at least for the time being," he said with a sigh. "You shouldn't hide out."

"I know. I'm not really hiding. I'm just giving her a chance to adjust. How long do you think it will take for her to treat me like she treats you?" Rory asked.

"Well, since you're REALLY famous and I'm not, I have no clue," he replied, and Rory could hear the bitterness in his voice.

"Ouch," was all she could think to say in return.

"I should be used to it by now."

"Tristan," Rory started, but he cut her off.

"Let's just go get some coffee okay. You should buy some for the house while we're out too."

She accepted his subject change. "Why isn't there any coffee in the house?"

"I don't drink it all that often," he responded, shrinking towards the drivers door for fear of Rory's reaction.

"What!" she shouted. "That's just insane."

He shook his head. "Some people would think that when it comes to addictive stimulants, moderation is a good thing."

She laughed and snorted. "Pshaw."

He laughed with her, and backed the car out of the garage. "So is Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf okay?"

"At this point, any coffee will do."

They pulled out of the gate to find a few cars waiting for them, and cameras with telephoto lenses sticking out of windows.

"I didn't miss this," Tristan said through his smile.

"I hope it dies down soon, but I'm not going to become a recluse until then. That would just make things worse."

The drive to the coffee shop was relatively short, and soon they were pulling into the parking lot. "Can we drive through?" Tristan asked.

Rory shook her head. "We should go in. Th drive thru seems like we're hiding."

Tristan sighed deeply as he parked the car. Rory screwed on her blissful smile, and stepped out of the car at the same time that Tristan did. They met in front of the car and he held out his hand for her to take it.

She took his hand, and pulled him into the coffee shop.

Merely stepping into the building seemed to draw the attention of everyone in the shop. "You know, I've been here a million times before and I've never had this reaction," Tristan whispered to Rory.

"Sorry," she replied with a forced giggle.

The line was short, and soon they were in front of the barista. "Your usual Tristan?" she asked, and he nodded. "And for you Miss Gilmore?" she stammered nervously.

Rory thought about it for a moment before finally answering. "A grande non-fat vanilla latte."

"Would you like anything to eat?" she asked.

"Blueberry muffin for me," Tristan started. "Mol you want anything?"

Rory looked at him, and then the pastry case. "A lemon poppy seed muffin, and can we get two pounds of your house blend. Ground?"

The barista nodded nervously and went to fill their order.

"Do you want to go grab a table while I wait for our order?" Tristan asked.

She smiled. "Sure, there's a little table in the corner over there. I'll be waiting," she dropped into a husky voice and added a suggestive wink.

"I'll hurry," he replied with a devilish grin of his own.

Cameras clicked all around them and patrons awed over their romantic behavior.

As she sat at the table, three or four people came up to her, asking for autographs and asking questions. Most of them just offered their congratulations on her recent wedding. She thanked them all kindly as she signed their napkins and receipts.

"How does Logan feel about your recent wedding?" one woman asked as she eyed Tristan with distaste. Clearly she was a Rogan fan.

"You'd have to ask him," Rory said politely.

Tristan pushed his way through the crowd and set a tray on the table with the coffees and the muffins. "Breakfast is served."

"Oh Chad, you're so sweet," she cooed.

He chuckled as he took a seat at the table, moving his chair so he was sitting next to her instead of across from her. "Okay guys," he addressed the crowd, "you've all gotten your pictures and your autographs; do you think you could leave us to our breakfast in peace?" His tone was light and friendly but his posture was protective.

"Aww Tristan," they groaned.

"Come on!" he said firmly, but in the same light tone. "Would you really want me watching you eat and have conversation with your significant others?"

The crowd finally started to disperse as Tristan stared them down. Rory snuggled into his side and took a sip of her latte.

"This is good coffee," she said quietly. "Not as good as Luke's but… it'll do."

Tristan picked up his cup to have a sip. "Why don't you have Luke's shipped to you?"

She shrugged. "I guess I never thought of that. There's just something about getting from Luke's."

He nodded and took a bite of his muffin.

"So, what's your regular? Apparently you come here often," she teased.

"Chai tea," he replied.

Rory shook her head and sighed. "That will have to be changed."

"Yeah right," he said as he took another sip of his drink.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A little filler… a new character… and some more Trory interaction.<strong>

**I still don't own any of it. And I still hope you enjoy it!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**S**


	16. Chapter 16

They spent a full thirty minutes at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, chatting about their upcoming work schedules and items on their respective to do lists, before the people started staring again.

"Should we swing by your place to get some of your clothes?" Tristan asked as they made their way to the door.

"That would be good. I've got to call my assistant and have everything packed and stored, but I have a few suitcases that we can load ourselves."

"The sooner you're all moved in, the better," he said as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close enough to kiss her on the head.

He walked her to her side of the car, and opened the door for her. As she stepped into the car he nuzzled his cheek against hers, brushing his mouth close to her ear. "I want you to enter your address into my GPS," he said.

She forced a blush and nodded eagerly, as the paparazzi around them snapped picture after picture.

When Tristan got in the car, Rory immediately tapped her address into the onboard navigation system. "You're really good at making things look so much different then they are," she said when she was finished.

"How so?" he asked.

"Come on! Back there. I bet that any one of those pictures of us is so hot and laden with sexual tension that it would melt the film, if cameras still used film that is."

He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "It's called acting. Just because I don't have a ton of high profile films under my belt doesn't mean I'm not good at what I do."

"I never said you weren't."

He smiled at her. "It helps when you have a good partner."

She laughed, "Yes, well, I'd like to thank The Academy…"

They drove in silence for a while. Tristan used the time to appreciate just being himself for a little while. This being on all the time thing was harder than he remembered.

"How do you do it?" he finally asked.

"Do what?" she asked in return.

He sighed. "Spend so much time with the paparazzi. Don't you ever just want to be yourself, and not care what anyone else thinks?"

Rory turned to face him as best as she could, and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "It helps that I don't have a lot to hide. At least, I used to not have a lot to hide. Typically, what you see with the press, that's the real me."

He looked at her, as though he was about to accuse her of lying, but then stopped, and thought about it for a moment. "You always were a Goody-Goody."

She winced at the term. "Well I guess being a Goody-Goody paid off," she spat back, aiming for one of his sore spots.

He glared at her for a moment, and she smiled sweetly in return. This woman knew how to push his buttons.

"My building is the one on the right," she said. "If you stop at the gate you can punch in the code and park in the garage."

He nodded roughly, and turned into the lot. "What's the code?"

"Zero four one six."

He keyed in the code and waited for the gate to swing open. "What's with that code? It's the same one you use for your phone. Is that the date that you and Huntzberger started dating?" he asked in a disgusted tone.

"Yep, that's it," she told him. He knew she was lying, but he didn't know why. If it really did have anything to do with Logan she would have told him it was something else.

He pulled into the garage. "Which spot is yours?"

"Space 32."

"Where's your car?" he asked as he drove towards her empty space. "Don't you drive in LA?"

She sighed, getting annoyed with his irritated tone. "It's in the shop. I was in a fender bender a week ago, and since I decided to visit my dad, I figured it was a good time to have the car fixed."

Tristan chuckled. "Did a small furry animal jump out and startle you while you were driving?" he asked.

She glared at him as she unbuckled her seatbelt to get out of the car. "No. A member of the paparazzi ran me off the road."

She threw open her door and got out of the car. She slammed the door behind her and stalked towards the elevator.

"Wait up!" Tristan called as he beeped the doors locked and jogged after her. "You were run off the road?"

Rory hit the call button and tapped her foot impatiently waiting for the elevator. "Yeah. I was. Isn't just too bad they weren't a little better at it? Maybe if they were more effective I would have been injured and stuck in a hospital and we wouldn't be in this mess." The elevator arrived and she stepped into it, hitting the button for the eighth floor. "Are you coming or what?"

Tristan climbed in the elevator next to her, and looked down at her standing there, steaming mad. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," she spat, "if that car accident had been just a little worse…"

He sighed angrily. "No, I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the accident. Although, sometimes I really think that's what it's going to take to get the paparazzi to back off."

"No kidding," she said quietly.

The elevator stopped at the eighth floor and they got off, Tristan followed Rory down the hall to her apartment, and waited as she unlocked the door.

"I would have thought you'd live in a house," he said conversationally.

She looked up at him, with a trace of sadness in her eyes. "I did. But since I broke up with Logan, I was the one that moved out. I've only been here for a couple of months."

"So what's the significance of your code? I know it has nothing to do with Logan."

"How do you know that?" she asked genuinely curious as she led him into the living room.

He snorted. "What kind of fool do you think I am? Why would you use your anniversary with your ex as the code to get into the new place you moved into because of the break up? That makes no sense."

She smiled as his logic. "True enough."

"Can I get a hint?" he asked.

She thought about it for a moment. "It is a date," she finally told him.

Tristan thought about it for a minute, then started thinking out loud. "I know it's not your birthday, because we just had that. It's not the date of the Molly's World premiere, because that was in September… April 16th… hrm. Is it the date you made your first million?" he asked with a smile.

She laughed and shook her head. "No."

"The date you lost your virginity?"

"No!" she said loudly, smacking him on the arm.

"The date you finally passed your driving test?"

"Nope."

He sighed, "Alright, I give up, what is it?"

She looked down at the ground, then at her hands. "It's my mom's birthday," she mumbled quietly.

Oh shit. He didn't really know what to do with that information. He'd just been teasing her about something special. "Hey, uh… I wasn't trying to be an ass just now."

She smiled a wan smile at him. "I know. It's okay."

"You really miss her don't you?" he asked quietly.

Rory nodded and stared at a spot on the floor. He could see tears forming in her eyes. "I didn't get enough time with her!" she said angrily. "It's just not fair!"

He was sure he truly didn't understand why she was so upset. It had been 22 years after all. Maybe this was just something people never get over.

"I'm sorry," she said as she swiped at her eyes. "I just get a little overly emotional this time of year."

"It's okay," he said. "Come here."

She looked at him curiously, wondering what he was planning.

"Come here," he said again. "I promise it won't hurt."

She took a couple of steps closer to him. Tristan sighed loudly, and finally closed the gap between them, pulling her into his arms. She stood stiffly in his arms for a moment before he spoke. "It's just a hug. Relax. You just seemed like you needed one."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory was torn as she stood in his arms. Part of her wanted to leap back and snap 'There's no one watching, you don't need to pretend to be a caring husband,' as he had done the day before when she'd tried to calm him, but the other part of her wanted to just appreciate the kind gesture. This was the first kind, private thing, he'd done for her.

After another moment, when she realized he wasn't going to back off, she let herself relax. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. She stopped holding back the tears of grief and anger that had been building inside of her, and just let them flow.

They stood there like that for a few minutes, then Tristan began slowly running his hands up and down her back in a soothing manner. "It's okay," he whispered. "It'll all be okay. Just let it all out."

She hugged him tighter to her and all out sobbed. She was surprised he didn't take the first opportunity to back away, he just continued to rub her back and make low soothing sounds.

Her tears finally stopped and she moved to back away, but he tightened his grip on her momentarily. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

She nodded against his chest and he released her.

"I'm… sorry about that," she stammered. "I don't know what came over me. I'm usually pretty good at keeping this stuff to myself."

He shrugged it off as if it was no big deal, and women cried all over him on a regular basis. "Don't worry about it."

"Thank you for being so nice."

He smiled a small smile at her. "Isn't that what fake husbands are for?"

Rory laughed. "Apparently."

She headed into the bedroom to start packing. He followed her in, and flopped across her bed as she pulled suitcases from her closet.

They spent the next several minutes in complete silence. Tristan lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and Rory emptying drawers into suitcases.

"Can I ask you something?" he said finally.

"Sure. But I reserve the right to refuse to answer," she told him.

"Fair enough." He paused for a moment, and Rory could tell he was trying to find a way to formulate his question in an inoffensive manner. "It's been more than twenty years since your mom died. Why is it still so hard on you?" Before she could answer he continued on. "I'm not trying to be an asshole, I'm genuinely trying to understand."

She continued to pack for a few minutes, trying to find a way to word her answer so she didn't sound like a complete loon. She finally looked over at Tristan to find him watching her with intent. "I think it's so hard on me because I've always had to deal with it alone."

Tristan sat up on the bed. "Why do you have to deal with it alone?"

She sighed and sat down at the foot of the bed, holding on to the sweater she was about to pack. "Like I told you, when my mom died, a part of my dad did too. He couldn't get out of bed for a year. When he finally did come around, any mention of my mom would set him off. He'd start crying, or he'd just shut down and refuse to talk. My grandparents, my mom's parents," she clarified, "were the same way. So it didn't take me long to realize that my mom was a taboo subject."

"What about your friends?" he asked.

"I was eight," she reminded him. "And I'd been all but pulled away from my friends, except for school hours."

He picked up the pillow next to him and began to fiddle with the border. "Why didn't they put you in therapy?"

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. They were all too busy dealing with their own grief I guess. And it was my fault she was dead, so I was just trying not to make things worse."

Tristan gasped at her admission. "It is absolutely not your fault!" he told her. "Why would you even think that?"

"I'm the one that had to have the special chocolate cherry chip cake with vanilla icing. If it weren't for that, she'd not have been on the road with those drunks!" She said this with absolute certainty.

"It's not your fault."

She resumed her packing, ignoring his statement. She knew it was her fault and there was no way he could talk her out of that truth.

"Rory, it's not your fault," Tristan said again.

"Just because you keep saying it doesn't make it true."

He took a deep breath and groaned. "Fine. So now, as an adult, why do you have to deal with it by yourself? You're rich and successful. You can afford therapy, your family would never have to know."

She looked over at him, surprised to find what appeared to be genuine concern on his face. "I've been faking 'over it' for so long, that I don't think about it much any more. Just around my birthday."

"Okay fine. But don't you talk to your friends about it? I know you have real friends, not just the Hollywood air kisses and lunch dates friends."

She shook her head. "They're too busy and I don't want to burden them."

"What about Logan, didn't you talk to him about this?' he asked.

Rory nodded. "I talked to Logan about some of it. He knew why I hated my birthday. But his response was to give me my space when I was upset."

"I guess I can understand that," Tristan said, not sounding at all like he could understand that response. "So Logan just let you disappear for a while around your birthday?"

"Oh no. I usually keep myself super busy around my birthday. The huge party that I hate, and lots and lots of work. But this year… that just didn't work out."

Tristan smiled. "Break ups can really mess with your schedule I guess," he said.

She chuckled in response and went to start loading shoes into her next suitcase. "It's not the break up. It's my postponed project. I was supposed to be away on location for a month or so, but _somebody_ had to check into rehab and delay production. So I'll probably be gone most of next month for that instead. It's a short shoot. Only supposed to last three weeks."

"It'll be longer than that," he said.

"How do you know?" she asked.

He sighed. "When he gets out of rehab, his first task will be to try and normalize his life. Which will mean not shoot for 12 hours a day. If they don't delay filming for even longer, you're looking at half days I bet. So it'll take twice as long as before."

Rory looked at him suspiciously. "How do you know so much about this?"

Tristan looked away from her and focused his attention on a photograph on her wall. "That's what it was like when I got out of rehab."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Excuse me?" Rory said. "How come I didn't know you went to rehab?"

Tristan stood up from the bed. Why did he think it was a good idea to tell her this? He began to wander around her room, unable to sit still. "Why would you know? It happened a long time ago. I wasn't newsworthy anymore, so there would be no reason for you, or anyone else, to know."

"But you still drink! We had wine with my dad, and cocktails in Atlantic City!" she exclaimed.

He chuckled at her naivety. "I didn't go to rehab for alcohol."

"You didn't?" she replied incredulously. "Then why did you go?"

He focused on a spot on the floor for a moment before answering her. "Cocaine," he said quietly.

"What? When?" she asked.

He looked up at her, catching her eyes. "I've been clean for 10 years now."

"How long did you use?" she asked tentatively.

"Five years," he admitted. He watched as the wheels turned in her head, doing the math.

"But," she started. "I never knew! I saw you every day for some of those years and I never knew!"

He walked over to where she stood, rooted to the ground and put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on Rory, how would you know? You were just an innocent kid then. You wouldn't know what high looked like if it bit you on the nose."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I knew when you came to work drunk," she told him quietly. "I hated those days."

"For what it's worth, I am sorry," he replied in an equally quiet voice.

"So… how?" she asked, not really knowing how to ask.

Tristan dropped his hand from her shoulder and resumed walking around her room. "You know I've been on my own since I was 18 right?"

She nodded. She still remembered the party he threw to celebrate. She remembered the bitter sting of disappointment when she finally realized he wasn't going to invite her.

"At 18, with tons of money, nothing was off limits. I started throwing huge parties on the weekends. One weekend, a friend of mine brought some coke. I tried it because I could. I was 18," he repeated, "I thought I was invincible. Sure drugs were supposed to be addictive, but I was stronger than that."

He glanced back at Rory, to find her nodding along, listening intently to him. "It started as weekend use. I'd use a little on Friday night so I could party all weekend… but soon, it wasn't enough. If a drink or two couldn't take the edge off a bad day, I'd use a little more. It didn't get really bad until after Molly's World ended." He stopped pacing and fixed his stare on a picture on her wall.

"What made it get bad then?" she asked.

"I wasn't busy. And I was depressed about it. All I had were bit parts in frat movies, playing the same bad boy over and over again."

He didn't hear her approaching, but he felt her arms slide around his waist as she hugged him from behind, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," he said honestly. Not that he didn't blame her for it at the time, but now, so many years later he couldn't hold on to the old blame.

"I know, but I'm still sorry." She continued to hold on to him. "So how did you finally get clean?"

"My friend John actually. He found me completely out of my head and dragged me off to rehab."

"I'm glad," she said.

"Me too," he admitted.

"Why did you tell me this?" she asked.

He turned to face her with her arms still wound around his waist. He rested his own arms on top of her shoulders. "A little quid pro quo I guess. You opened up about your mom, and I figured… well, I figured you deserved a little reciprocation."

She moved closer to him, to hug him. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just remember this next time you want to kill me for being an asshole."

She dropped her hold and stepped backwards, looking around her room. "I think I've packed everything I can."

"Alright, then let's get home."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Here you go! Another installment. Just to let you know, I have NO IDEA where Tristan's drug use came from. One minute I'm hearing Rory's insistence on taking the blame for her mother's death, and the next thing you know, Tristan is telling her about rehab. Also, having never been to rehab, I've made up everything about it… including the reentry process. <strong>

**I don't own any of it! **

**Please read and review… the review alerts are like little drops of sunshine on a rainy day. (Though I also enjoy the story alerts and favorites as well!)**

**S**


	17. Chapter 17

"Hello? Amanda?" Tristan called loudly as he entered the house. He had one of Rory's bags in each hand and she was right behind him lugging in a third.

The house was silent, so Tristan set down the bags and glanced at his watch. It was half past 12, she was already gone for the day. He smiled and left the bags where they were. "I'm going to go have a cigarette," he said as he headed for the patio.

"Aren't you going to help me with my bags?' Rory asked hopefully. There were six of them total, and all of them were quite heavy.

He snorted, "You pack it, you haul it."

She let out a sound that was akin to a low growl, and he laughed as he closed the French doors behind himself.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory hauled her third suitcase up the stairs, bumping each stair as she went. She was internally cursing herself. She'd intentionally overloaded them, assuming that Tristan would do the heaving lifting. After their moments, plural, at her apartment, she assumed the niceties would stick. After all, he did help her lug them all down to the car, and load them in the back. But of course, there was an audience at the time.

When the third bag was in her room, she decided to take a break. She sat down on the edge of the bed and called her assistant.

"Hello?" he answered on the third ring.

"Hey Micah it's Rory," she said. "How's it going?"

"Oh, you know, putting out fires all over the place," he said with a wry chuckle.

"Sorry," she mumbled humbly.

"So what can I do for you today Ms. Gilmore?" he asked.

He'd been working for Rory since she and Logan split up. She needed someone to help her manage all the press, making her aware of it, and trying to put a positive spin on it. He managed her website, and all of her planned public appearances. Despite her repeated insistence that he call her Rory, he held strong to 'Ms. Gilmore.'

"I need you to get my apartment packed up, and find a place to store all of my furniture for the time being."

"What about your personal affects?"

"I've packed a good portion of my clothes… at least the ones not on hangers… but I'll need the rest of them packed and delivered to Tristan's."

She ran her free hand through her hair, missing the length. When it was long, she could easily pull it up in a ponytail, and have it look good. Now a ponytail was only suitable at home.

"When do you want this done by?" he asked. She could hear his pen scratching on paper.

"Well I've already paid the rent for October, so the stuff just needs to be out by the end of the month. The sooner the better on the clothes though, I have a feeling I'm going to be high profile in the press for a while."

Micah made the appropriate understanding noises in the proper places. "I'll call movers about the furniture, but get a van and pack up the closet myself."

She smiled to herself. This is why she liked Micah so much, he knew how to delegate, but also what to keep back for himself. "Alright. I'll text you the address here, and you can just let me know when you'll be here."

He cleared his throat, and she could picture him fidgeting in his chair. "You don't want them today do you?"

Rory laughed. "No, just by the end of this week though."

"Alright perfect. That I can do."

"Have a good day," she said before hanging up.

She found Micah in her text messages to text him the address, but as soon as she started to type, she realized she didn't know the address to her new home. She texted Tristan instead. _What's the address here? _She set the phone down and began to unpack one of the suitcases. It was less than a minute later when the phone vibrated across the top of the dresser.

_Why? Are you inviting your boyfriend over?_

Rory snorted at his sense of humor. _Yep. _She sent the message quickly, then followed up with a second one. _Actually I need to give it to Micah so he can bring me the rest of my clothes._

She went back to putting clothes away, waiting for a response.

"Who's Micah?" a voice asked from the doorway a few minutes later.

Rory smiled at him. "My boyfriend."

This time it was Tristan that snorted in response. "Yeah. Sure." Instead of saying anything further, he just let the awkward silence fill the air.

"He's my assistant. He's going to pack up the rest of my clothes and bring them here."

"Wait a minute," Tristan started, with a confused look on his face. "You brought six suitcases full of clothes and there are still more to bring."

She nodded.

"A lot more?" he asked.

She looked to the ceiling for a moment as she mentally tallied how many more suitcases worth of clothes remained in her closet. "Only probably a dozen garment boxes full. That would be about 15 large suitcases I guess."

"A dozen!" he exclaimed. "I could probably fit everything in my closet in just the three suitcases you've brought up so far."

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in," she replied bitterly. He cocked his head to the side in a quizzical look. "Don't you think I wish I could own fewer clothes? But no, I get photographed all the flippin' time. If I wear the same outfit more than once and it's captured on film, I'll never live it down."

Tristan laughed loudly. "Never have I been happier to be a guy than at right this moment."

She threw the nearest object she had at him, which happened to be one of her tennis shoes. He continued to laugh as he jumped out of the way.

"Gilmore, you throw like a girl."

Rory sneered at him. "I am a girl."

"Thank god for small mercies. I think I'd kill myself if I woke up married to a dude," he admitted.

She smiled. "Wow. There could be something worse than this." She gestured between the two of them. "You could be married to a dude. I might prefer being married to a woman though." She shot him a little wink.

She wasn't exactly sure what thought ran through his head when she said that, but she saw a brief look of excitement cross his face, before he shook his head and returned to his usual cocky expression.

"So you just need the address to have clothing delivered?" he confirmed.

"Yes. Why? The paparazzi are already camped outside, if people really want to find us, they will."

"Oh, no it's not that, it's just that I use a post office box for mail."

"I'm not having my mail forwarded here. It's being going to the same post office box since before I started dating Logan," she replied, offended at the insinuation. Combining mail was worse than combining bank accounts as far as she was concerned.

"Okay. It's 1604 Shore View Drive," he told her.

She shook her head, thinking she misheard him. "1604?" she repeated.

He nodded. "Isn't it ironic?"

"Dontcha think?" she deadpanned back.

They stood in silence for a moment. Tristan unsure of what to do, and Rory processing the information she'd just received. "So… I'll just leave you to your unpacking." He paused at the door and turned back to look at her. "Are you getting hungry for lunch?"

She thought about for a second. She really was hungry. "Lunch sounds great. Let me finish unpacking this suitcase and I'll be down."

He nodded, and headed downstairs.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan grabbed his novel off the coffee table and sprawled out on the couch to read and wait for Rory. Rory's words from moments before floated through his head, _I might prefer being married to a woman._ He scrubbed his hands over his face trying to physically erase the visual that her words created. He knew Rory wasn't that kind of girl, but he was a red blooded male, he couldn't control the wandering of his mind. He let out a deep sigh and dropped his book to cover the evidence his thoughts left in his lap.

It wasn't long before he heard Rory's footsteps on the stairs. "I'm done," she said cheerily. "What are you making for lunch?"

He laughed. "What am I making for lunch?" he repeated.

"Didn't you just invite me to have lunch with you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, I asked if you were getting hungry for lunch."

"Exactly. That implied that you would be providing me with lunch," she explained her logic as she stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.

He stood up. "You're the girl."

Rory laughed. Hard. "Did you just imply that you expect me to make lunch because I'm the wife?" she asked, between gasps for air.

"Well, yes," he answered honestly.

"Oh honey, it's a good thing you're pretty." She reached out and patted his cheek. "First, Gilmore Girls don't cook. Second, and likely more important, if you want the 1950's archetype, I'm the breadwinner, and thus, you should be cooking."

Tristan rolled his eyes at her. "How about we go forage in the kitchen together?" he suggested.

"I suppose that will work. But didn't you say earlier that your maid cooks?" she remembered.

"She does, but given the shock she had this morning, I wouldn't be surprised if she forgot to cook anything." He made his way to the kitchen, leaving her to follow close behind him. "So, if you don't cook, how do you eat?"

She shrugged. "Well, I haven't actually done a lot of eating lately," she admitted. "When I do eat, it tends to be at restaurants."

"You and Logan ate out for almost the entirety of your four year relationship?" he asked in disbelief.

"We probably ate out seventy percent of the time when we were in town. Otherwise Logan cooked."

Tristan chortled. "Does he wear a Kiss The Cook apron?" Rory blushed profusely. "He does!"

She shook her head no. "No, his said Be a Good Bear and Eat Your Honey." She continued to blush at the suggestiveness of his apron.

For some reason this caused Tristan to laugh so hard that he cried. "Was Logan a Good Bear?" he asked solely to watch her blush even more. As soon as the question was out of his mouth, he regretted it. He really did not want an answer to that question.

Rory's blush went from hot pink to tomato red, and she glared at him refusing to speak.

Tristan continued to laugh as he opened the door to the refrigerator. He saw that Amanda had actually prepared the chicken salad he had requested. It was in a decent sized container with a note stuck on the top telling him there were pitas in the breadbox.

"Do you want chicken salad?" he asked as he pulled the container from the fridge. She nodded mutely. "Okay. Could you grab the pitas from the breadbox behind you?"

She immediately spun to search for the breadbox. She started opening random cupboards searching for pitas.

"Do you know what a breadbox is?" he asked after she opened the fourth cupboard.

"No," she admitted quietly.

Her admission made him smile. "The breadbox is the bottom portion of that cupboard over there, with the roll top lid." He pointed to the portion he was referring to.

"Thanks." She opened the breadbox and pulled out the bag of pitas handing them to him as he set a container of fruit salad on the counter as well.

"Chicken salad sandwiches and some fresh fruit salad. That doesn't sound like a bad lunch," he said as he examined the spread in front of him.

Rory crinkled her nose a little. "Fruit? Don't you have any chips?"

"So you don't like fruit, and you don't like green salad. Has anyone told you you eat like a teenager?"

"I hardly eat. Why does it matter what I eat when I do eat?" her tone was rather petulant.

Tristan merely shook his head. "Do you want to hand me a couple of plates from the cupboard next to the pantry?" She looked a little confused so he gave her more direction. "The pantry is the regular looking door at the end of the island. You might find some chips in there." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

She stuck her tongue out at him, but went to get the plates nonetheless. She set the plates in front of him and returned to the pantry to forage for chips.

Tristan cut the pitas in half and began to stuff each half with filling. He made two for himself and one for Rory, then added some fruit salad to both their plates.

"Thanks," she said quietly as he handed her a plate.

"No problem. I was kind of afraid you'd injure yourself if you had to make your own."

"Very funny," she said as she started to walk towards the dining room with her plate.

"Where are you going?"

"The dining room," she told him, as though it were perfectly obvious.

"Why? You can't bear the thought of eating with me?" he faked being insulted by her actions.

She stopped in her tracks and turned around. "Isn't the dining room where people eat?"

Again, he found himself laughing. "You always eat in the dining room?"

Rory shrugged. "After…. That's where we ate when I lived at home. Since then I haven't actually done much eating at home."

"I'll give you a little hint, here the only time we eat at the dining room table is when we have company."

"Okay. Where do you eat then?" she asked.

He gestured to the breakfast bar. "Here in the kitchen, or sometimes in the den if there's a movie or a game on that I want to watch." He settled on to a bar stool and took a bite of his sandwich. He groaned quietly in bliss, Amanda really did make good chicken salad.

Rory took the seat next to him and set the bag of chips she found on the counter between them. She took a bite of her chicken salad and a smile broke out on her face. "This is really good!" she exclaimed after she swallowed.

Since his mouth was full, he just nodded in agreement.

"What do we do about dinner?"

He finished chewing and swallowed before he answered. "Well I'm sure Amanda has left some other tasty treats in the fridge, or we can go out if you want."

Rory took a moment to mull over the options, but before she could speak up, his phone rang distracting them both.

"Ungh," he groaned loudly.

"What?" she asked curiously. "Who is it?"

He rolled his eyes, and thought about reminding her that it was none of her business, but decided he'd save that for something more important. "Hello," he answered putting the phone on speaker.

"Tristan, it's your mother," Marcia DuGrey's voice rang out, filling the room. "Why haven't you called me back?"

He sighed. "I've been a little busy."

"You told your father you'd call when you got back into town," she reminded him. "I know you're back in town, I saw the footage from your arrival last night, as well as pictures from your trip to the coffee shop this morning. I must say, she's a lot cuter on the big screen. She's rather plain in real life."

"Mom!" he exclaimed.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Rory's right here!"

She huffed. "A little honesty never hurt anyone. Besides, how was I to know you put me on speaker phone?"

"Hi Mrs. DuGrey," Rory piped up finally.

"Oh hello Rory," Marcia replied.

Tristan sighed again. "What is it that you want Mother?"

"We want to have dinner with you and Rory, of course. Would tonight work for you?" she asked.

Rory shook her head no, and gestured wildly towards her clothing.

"We can't tonight Mom, Rory's still in the process of moving in and all of her stuff isn't here. She doesn't have anything to wear."

"Thank you," she mouthed at him.

"That hardly matters, I'm sure she'll look lovely in anything."

Given the statement she'd just made about Rory being plain this caused Tristan to make the crazy gesture, and Rory to bite her lip in attempt to keep quiet.

"I think it's too late to make reservations anywhere," Tristan tried again.

"Nonsense!" Marcia exclaimed boldly. "I'm sure Rory can get us a table anywhere we want to go."

Rory hung her head in defeat, knowing that she was probably right.

"Rory dear, would you book a table for four at Providence at 8:00?" Marcia asked in a manner that was more of an instruction than a request.

"I'll see what I can do," Rory said faking a chipperness that she definitely did not feel.

"Come on Mom, can't we do this later, like next week? We're still jetlagged," he lied.

His mother sighed on the other end of the line. "Don't be a spoilsport Tristan. We want to meet your wife. We'll see you at 8:00 sharp."

The line went dead before he could try anymore stall tactics.

"I'm sorry," he said as he pushed his plate away from him. Talking to his mother caused his appetite to disappear.

She smiled faintly. "I'll call Micah and see if he can get us a reservation."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Next up, dinner with Tristan's parents. Yikes! <strong>

**As usual I don't own anything… I got Logan's apron from a random website, and Providence is a real restaurant in LA. (Super trendy apparently.) **

**Again, I appreciate all of the reviews and story alerts. As a note, if you enjoy the story, you may want to make sure you're getting alerts because at some point I may have to change the rating to M. (Don't worry, it won't be anything too graphic… but still it might be M just to be on the safe side.)**

**I welcome all of your feedback! **

**S**


	18. Chapter 18

Rory sent a quick text message to Micah asking him to make the dinner reservation, and tried to go back to eating her lunch. The anxiety that had flooded her system had also killed her appetite. She took another couple small bites of the chicken salad and pushed the fruit around the plate while she waited for a response.

"They're going to hate me," she whispered, more to herself than Tristan.

"No they won't," Tristan tried to reassure her.

She wasn't even sure why she cared, it was her temporary husband's parents after all. She wouldn't have to deal with them all that often or for very long. She looked up at Tristan who was watching her with worry. "Logan's parents hated me. I don't see why yours should be any different," she finally admitted.

"Wait a minute, there are people out there that hate you besides me?" Tristan tried to make a joke.

"Ha, ha, ha," she said dryly.

"No seriously, we should form a club."

She gave him the finger and resumed staring at her phone waiting for response from Micah. The part of her that didn't want to go to dinner hoped he couldn't get reservations on such short notice. The part of her that wanted to impress Tristan's parents however wanted him to get a prime table.

Tristan stood up and took his plate into the kitchen, pausing in front of her to grab hers as well. "So why didn't Logan's parents like you?"

She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him. "I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "I think it's because I work."

This comment seemed to perplex Tristan. "Why would they care?"

She shrugged. "I think they want Logan to have a trophy wife."

"Are his parents blind? You're a pretty big trophy."

Rory blushed slightly at his statement. "Not just that kind of trophy. They want Logan to be the successful one, married to a beautiful woman whose sole purpose in life is to tend to Logan. She's the one next to him at events, taking care of the kids at home, and entertaining his adoring fans."

"And that wasn't you? Because from what it sounds like, it could be you."

She shook her head. "I'm a bigger name than Logan. Not that Logan's not super famous in his own right, but I have the larger fan base, and I command the larger salaries." She wasn't bragging, she was just telling the truth. Tristan of all people should understand that.

"You were too famous for Logan then?" he reiterated.

"At least according to his parents."

Tristan smiled. "Don't worry, my parents won't think you're too famous for me. As long as you're famous enough to get them into all of the things that I can't get them into, they'll like you just fine." Distain dripped from his voice and Rory felt bad for him.

"Thanks for the heads up," she told him. "But your mom already thinks I'm plain."

"Sweetheart you could be Sloth from The Goonies and they'd love you as long as you could still get them into A-list events."

Rory nodded, understanding his meaning. "So tell me about them. What they do, not just what they want out of life," she explained.

Tristan sighed and walked over to the couch, flopping down on it in exasperation. Rory stood up and followed him, sitting at the other end, making it clear she wasn't going to let go of the conversation.

"Do I have to?" he whined.

"Would you rather me learn it from them?"

"Okay you win. I'll talk!" he said as though she was torturing him. "My dad is a stock broker. But he's not a very good one. He's fine with other people's money, but he tends to be overly cavalier with his own. My mom is his wife."

"That's it?" Rory asked. "His wife?"

Tristan shrugged. "She's a stay at home wife. She plans dinner parties and attends ladies lunches. When I was a kid, she was a stage mom. It was her job to chauffer me between gigs. When I got old enough to do it myself, she decided to just stay home and be a wife." The hint of bitterness in his voice told Rory that he may have some resentment regarding his mother's choices.

"So appearances are everything and happiness is relative."

He smiled. "That's a good way to put it.

"Got it," she said as she stood up. "Well I'm going to go haul in the rest of my suitcases. I'll let you know when I hear back from Micah."

She headed to the garage without a backwards glance.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan picked up his book and headed outside. He needed some peace and quiet and he needed to smoke.

After 15 minutes of chain smoking and pacing, he decided he needed to do something more aggressive. He glanced around to be sure that none of the paparazzi that currently stalked him had found their way past the gates or up the beach. Seeing that he was truly alone, he stripped down to his boxers and dove into the pool.

He didn't know how long he'd been at it when he felt something hit the middle of his back. He stopped and looked up to find Rory at the edge of the pool.

"Yes?" he said as he slicked his hair back and removed some of the water from it.

"Micah just called, we've got a table at 8:00." She sounded more like she was heading to the gallows than she was headed to a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant.

"Thanks," he replied equally glumly.

He dove back into the water and started swimming again.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory took a few moments to appreciate the view as Tristan swam laps in his boxers. He was one delectable man. She sighed as she shook her head, she didn't like him and he hated her, but for some reason, her body didn't get that memo.

She hauled her last suitcase up the stairs and began to unpack. Luckily the dresser had twelve drawers. She would probably use them all. After she opened the last of the suitcases onto the bed, she paused and put on her headset. She needed company.

It only took two rings to get an answer.

"So, how's it going?" Marty asked cheerfully on the other end of the phone.

"Well, you know, between the stalking and the meeting the in-laws… it's going wonderfully," she replied sarcastically.

"Tristan's making you meet his parents?" Marty asked suspiciously.

Rory laughed. "Actually, his parents foisted themselves on us. I think he's more annoyed about this than I am."

"So you've managed not to kill him just yet?"

"It's been very difficult at times, but I have managed to restrain myself," she told him.

Marty laughed. "I can see it now. I bet no jury would convict you. Insanity would work well in your defense."

She chuckled as she resumed unpacking her suitcases. "It's not so bad," she said quietly.

He gasped on the other end of the phone. "What happened to the loathsome boy that you wanted to kill just for breathing?"

"I have no doubt that he's still in there… but he seems to make his appearances less frequently."

"So you actually like him now?" Marty asked, confused.

She scoffed. "No. I just… maybe I don't hate him anymore." She sighed. "I don't know, maybe I never did hate him."

There was a pregnant silence, as Rory continued to put things away, and she could picture Marty opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, trying to ask a question.

"How's the new script coming?" she asked, hoping to cut off any lingering questions he had.

"Surprisingly well, some how I've found myself in a John Hughes like state, just cranking out the work. I can't get this script out of my head."

Rory smiled, imagining Marty all disheveled living on coffee working around the clock. "I can't wait to read it."

"You should come for dinner."

"That sounds great."

"Can you make it tonight?" he asked.

"I wish. I told you. The in-laws."

"Tonight!" Marty exclaimed. "I didn't think you meant that soon!"

She laughed bitterly. "His mother called an hour ago and arranged dinner, or rather had me arrange dinner," she explained, still a little confused about how she ended up tasked with planning dinner.

Marty sighed. "It's just as well. I haven't showered in a while," he admitted. "How about tomorrow night?"

"You realize that dinner will have to include Tristan too right?" she reminded him.

He groaned. "Really?"

"Of course silly! We're newlyweds!" she chirped in an overly excited voice.

"How long do I have to wait to just hang out with you?"

Rory thought about it for a moment as she arranged shoes in the closet. "Well, at night, probably at least a month. But since Tristan goes back to work on Friday, maybe we can get lunch or something."

"What are the chances that the paparazzi will think you're sneaking around on him if you come to my place for lunch on Friday?" he asked. "I want you to read the script I'm working on, but I don't really want to haul it to a restaurant, or be watched by the paps while we eat."

"They can think what they want. I know the truth, you know the truth, and Tristan will know the truth," she finally said firmly. "I'm not going into hiding over this."

She could practically hear Marty smile on the other end of the phone. "Well then I'll see you Friday for lunch," he said.

"I'll see you then."

She disconnected the call, and continued to unpack.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

It was 5:00 before she started to panic. Her wardrobe was extremely limited for dinner at a posh place. And frankly, after hearing Tristan's mother call her plain, she needed something that dazzled.

She started in the bathroom, doing something with her hair. She plugged in her flat iron and began the process of straightening her dark locks. Once her hair was straightened, she returned to the bedroom to pick through her clothes. After much deliberation given the limited choices, she finally settled on the black dress she'd worn to dinner at her grandparents. No one had pictures of that, she was sure. But instead of the charcoal cardigan and ballet flats, she chose some black stilettos and a trendy jacket. She added the silver earrings she'd worn to the Hep Alien concert and a simple silver chain with a charm that her father had given her years before. The charm was a simple flower, but she knew its significance. It was a flower from The Secret Garden. Whenever she needed a little confidence, she wore that necklace. More often than not it was tucked under her clothes, but not tonight.

Rory left her clothes in the bedroom as she returned to Tristan's bathroom to apply her make up. She set her phone next to her on the counter and turned on some music. For courage, she picked her 80's playlist, and tried to channel her mother.

"Vacation all I ever wanted, vacation, got to get away…." she sang along with The Go-Go's. Misting her perfume into the air and dancing under it.

_Clap. Clap. Clap. _The slow antagonistic applause from the door made her come to a dead halt. "That's quite a show you're putting on there," Tristan said dryly.

Rory blushed.

"Don't stop on my account."

"What do you want Tristan?" she asked when she finally got her voice back.

He looked at her like it should be obvious. "To use my bathroom," he said slowly.

She sighed. "I'm almost done, can I have five more minutes?" she asked.

"There are other bathrooms you know."

"Not if we don't want Amanda asking questions there aren't," she reminded him.

He grumbled at the thought. "Fine. Five more minutes." But instead of leaving to give her space, he leaned back against the door to watch her.

"What?" she said after a minute of feeling the weight of his stare.

"Is that what you're wearing?" he asked.

She looked down at the jeans and tee shirt she was wearing and smiled to herself. "Why? Is there something wrong with this?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing at all. I'm just trying to figure out what to wear myself. If you wear that then I can wear jeans and flip flops right?"

She scowled. He'd out foxed her. "This isn't what I'm wearing. Your mom already thinks I'm plain. I don't need to add to that."

"Does that mean I can't wear jeans and flip flops?" he asked, sticking out his lower lip in a pout.

She leaned closer to the mirror to apply her mascara. "Sorry. I think Providence has a dress code. You might not be let in if you wear jeans." He smiled suddenly and she amended her statement. "That won't get you out of dinner, it will just get you into a clothing shop to buy appropriate attire, making us late."

He huffed in disappointment. "Fine. What are you wearing so I can match?" he asked in a resigned manner.

"A little black dress," she told him.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "How little?" There was a touch of excitement in his voice.

"Get your mind out of the gutter DuGrey." She applied her lip stain and blotted, checking herself out in the mirror. From the neck up, she looked great.

"Come on Rory, we're married," he said, righting himself from his leaning position.

"And you hate me Tristan," she reminded him.

He crossed his arms across his chest, glancing down at his watch. "And your five minutes are up."

She grabbed the tube of lip stain and headed for the door, as Tristan leaned in and started the shower.

"We need to leave by 7:00," she told him, closing the door as she left.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

It was ten minutes to 7:00 when Tristan stepped out of his room. He walked down the stairs to wait for Rory, pausing in front of the large glass windows to take in his reflection. Black Armani suit, pinstriped shirt with French cuffs – the top button was undone and he refused to wear a tie, and black Gucci loafers – sans socks. He looked good. He knew it.

"Rory hurry up!" he shouted up the stairs.

"I have five minutes left!" she yelled back.

He let out a groan of frustration and began to pace. He didn't even want to go to this dinner, but if he had to be there, he'd at least be on time. He loathed being late. Given his illustrious past, Rory would probably expect him not to care… but that was the past. Besides, tonight he didn't want to give his parents any more ammunition.

He was just about to yell up the stairs again when he heard a door close. He looked up to find Rory coming down the stairs in a gorgeous black dress. She looked every bit the movie star she was, except that she was barefoot.

"Hillbilly chic?" he asked.

She held up her right arm to show her shoes in her hand. "Unlike some people, I can respect the no shoes in the house rule," she said pointedly, looking down at his loafer clad feet.

He flushed slightly being called on his own rule. "These are brand new, they've never been out of the box. Therefore, no dirt. And they don't have stiletto heels to damage the floor."

"Anything you say," she said with a smile.

As they approached the garage, she paused and put one hand on the wall to balance while she used her other hand to slide her shoes on. Tristan had an irrational urge to push her over, but instead, continued on his journey to the garage and started the car.

"Do you have the address?" he asked as she slid into the passengers seat.

"Sure do," she said.

When she made no further moves, to either put the address in the GPS or offer it to him, he spoke again. "Can I have it?"

She texted it to him, and he entered it into the GPS.

They drove along in virtual silence for a while, the only sounds being the low hum of the radio and the occasional direction from the automated voice.

"How does dinner with your parents work?" she finally asked.

"What do you mean? We enter a restaurant, order, I get berated for a while, then we eat, and go," he said.

She shook her head. "No not that, but that sucks. I mean… do they expect us to buy them dinner? Or do they buy it?"

Tristan wondered why she asked. He was going to let it go, but couldn't help himself. "They expect us to buy, why?"

She sighed and fidgeted in her seat. "Is it going to cause problems if I pay for it?" She knew she'd pay for it regardless, it was just a matter of how.

He thought about it for a moment. She had a good point. If she paid for it out right his parents would give him a hard time about having a sugar mama, if he paid for it, they would assume it was because she gave him an allowance. Either way his parents would expect them to pay for it. He sighed in frustration. "Do you think there's any way to just get it comped so we don't have to worry about it?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Let me make a call."

He gave her a curious look, but she held up her hand for silence when he started to talk.

"Yes, may I speak to the manager please?" she said when her call was answered. "Hi, I'm Rory Gilmore, I've got dinner reservations at 8:00 tonight," she explained when the manager finally picked up. There was a silence, and Tristan supposed the person on the other end was gushing about her coming to his or her humble restaurant. "I'm very excited as well," she lied. "But I need a favor. Would it be possible to slip my Black Card to the hostess as we're seated and then not be presented with a bill?" She waited again, and Tristan began to drum his fingers on the steering wheel. "Yes, it's something like that." She smiled and gave Tristan a thumbs up. "And of course there will be an automatic 20 percent gratuity added, that's just fine. See you soon."

She hung up the phone and smiled at Tristan. "Taken care of."

"Good thinking!" he said. "You're famous enough that my parents will believe you get free meals. But what reason did the manager suggest?" His curiosity wouldn't be overridden.

"He assumed I was trying to prevent a fight over the bill at the end of the night," she answered. "And really, I kind of am. Just not the kind of fight he would expect."

"Thank you," he said quietly.

She nodded, and switched her gaze to stare out the window.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Traffic was surprisingly light, allowing Tristan and Rory to arrive at the restaurant almost ten full minutes early. The car was handed off to the valet, and given their collective celebrity status, they were immediately ushered to their table to wait for their guests. Rory discreetly handed her Black Card to the host and slid into the booth leaving Tristan to the outside edge, in case he needed to escape for a moment or two during the course of the night.

They were just perusing the drink menu when the senior DuGreys were delivered to their table. Tristan stood as Marcia and James slid into the booth.

"Hello son," James said as he extended his hand to Tristan.

"Hi Dad," Tristan replied coolly, retaking his seat. "Mom, you remember Rory," he said in an introductory manner. "Rory, my parents, James and Marcia DuGrey."

Rory stuck out her hand to shake each of theirs. "Pleased to meet you Mr. and Mrs. DuGrey," she said politely.

"Please, call us James and Marcia," James said at the same time Marcia said, "You can call us Mom and Dad."

"Thank you," Rory said bobbing her head politely.

"So, were your parents just as shocked about your marriage as we were?" Marcia asked, quickly cutting to the chase.

Rory smiled. "My Dad was quite surprised," she admitted.

"And your mother?" James asked.

She tried to control her expression, remembering that just because she was famous, not everyone knew everything about her. Before she could answer, Tristan spoke up on her behalf. "Rory lost her Mom as a child." He gave his dad a dark look.

She reached out and touched his leg. "It's okay Tristan, not everyone knows."

He gave her a look that told her that was in fact not the case, but she merely smiled.

"Shall we order some champagne to celebrate?" Marcia asked eager to get past the awkwardness.

James snapped and the waiter appeared. Rory could feel Tristan tensing beside her. She left her hand on his thigh and began to reassuringly rub his leg.

When the champagne arrived, they all toasted, and got down to the business of ordering. While Rory was content with the sea bass special, Tristan's parents seemed to be dining as though they hadn't eaten in a month. First there was a round of appetizers and cocktails. Then soup AND salad. Followed by entrees and a bottle of wine. And it was all ordered up front. Not _oh, I'm still a little peckish, let me get something more_. At this rate, dinner was going to take a month! Tristan sat beside her quietly seething.

They made small talk while they waited for the first course. Tristan asked about his parents work, and in turn, once the appetizer had been delivered they asked about Rory's work.

As Rory told them about her character in her most recent project, Marcia enthused, "Your father must be so proud!"

"Same as any parent, I suppose. As I'm sure you're proud of Tristan," she said with an adoring smile.

James snorted in his champagne. "At least you're successful. Honesty, his mother and I are just grateful that he hasn't embarrassed us too badly. While he hasn't had success, at least he hasn't ended up in jail or rehab."

Tristan's left hand formed a fist on the bench seat between them, and Rory reached down and covered his hand with her own, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, hoping it would calm him down.

Rory tried to keep her own feelings in check, not knowing how to respond to his parents.

"James!" Marcia hissed. "Not in public!"

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "This is not the forum for this discussion."

Tristan growled, "Excuse me, I'll be back in a moment."

Rory gave his hand a squeeze for good measure, then let it go so he could get up and leave.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan stood outside taking long drags off his cigarette. He smoked the first one in four pulls, then immediately lit a second one. He couldn't believe his parents! He'd warned Rory that they usually berated him, but he'd hoped that given she was his new wife and all, that they'd back off a little. Apparently not.

He paced as he smoked, wishing his dad could be a little more like Rory's. He was sure Christopher was disappointed in his daughter's recent nuptials, but at the same time, he knew that as long as Rory was happy, Christopher was ultimately happy for her. He was proud of himself for not losing his temper and reminding his father, in a very loud voice that despite his lack of success he'd still managed to bail his parents out of financial difficulty a time or two. He was also grateful that they still didn't know about his stint in rehab.

He stopped at the bar on his way back to the table and ordered a Jack and Coke. Champagne was not going to cut it. When he finally arrived back at the table, he found that the soup course had arrived in his absence. He merely slid back into his seat, placed his napkin across his lap and picked up his spoon, ignoring the curious looks from his mother and the pointed looks from his father. Rory merely smiled at him and took a bite of her own soup.

"So what are you working on?" his mother asked half way through the soup course.

He smiled; proud of his work for the first time in a while. "I'm working on a miniseries for Showtime."

"Congratulations Tristan," his mother said sounding truly pleased.

Rory smiled and wrapped her around his, leaning up against him in support. "I've seen some of the early snippets, he's great!" she lied convincingly.

"Is this another one of those things where we watch for an hour to see you for less than a minute?" his father asked gruffly.

Everyone else at the table tensed, but before Tristan could answer, the waiter arrived with the main courses and a bottle of wine. After the wine was sampled, and then poured, the previous conversation seemed to be forgotten.

The main course was enjoyed with relatively little chatter, and what did exist revolved primarily around current events. Not world news, but celebrity gossip. His mother, like Rory's grandmother, was fascinated by it. However, unlike Francine Hayden, Marcia DuGrey was bitchy about it. Where Francine wanted to know who was dating and who was having babies, Marcia wanted to know who was cheating, who was fired, and who was getting divorced. At one point, Tristan wondered if he could get away with stuffing bits of napkin in his ears just to escape the noise.

Just as Tristan pushed his plate back, the waiter appeared to clear it away. "Would you like dessert?" he asked.

Tristan looked to Rory, deferring to her, but before she could answer, his mother was ordering after dinner cocktails and dessert. His father chimed in for a port, and Rory and Tristan were stuck for a while longer.

"Dessert?" he asked Rory quietly.

"I think I'll just have a latte," she replied. He added a cup of tea to the order, and then prepared for another round.

"It's just too bad that you eloped!" his mother started. After the champagne, cocktails, and wine, her words began to slur a little bit. "I do wish we could have been there."

"We're intending to plan a big party to celebrate, since everyone missed it. My father and grandparents were sad to miss the wedding as well," Rory told her.

James harrumphed from his seat.

"What Dad?" Tristan asked, finally fed up.

"Well I just hope you're not expecting us to pay for this shindig." James DuGrey had had quite a bit to drink as well and it was beginning to show.

"Of course not!" Tristan said angrily. "Rory and I will pay for it ourselves."

His father snorted. "You mean Rory will pay for it! I'm not sure what you see in my son girly, but let me tell you, he did a good job when he married you."

His mother turned bright red, as did Rory. Tristan stood up. "And now I think it's time that we call it a night. Good night Mother."

Rory slid out of the seat behind him, and forced a smile as she bid the DuGreys goodnight.

"Tristan, wait!" Marcia called.

"Don't think you're sticking us with the bill!" James said gruffly.

Tristan opened his wallet and threw a couple of hundred dollar bills on the table. "This should cover what Rory and I ordered."

He put his arm around Rory and led her away. "But we've already paid the bill," Rory whispered.

"They don't know that. Let them sweat it out for a while."

She grinned up at him. "I have to say, this evening has made me grateful for my family."

He pinched her side, making her squirm against him. "Don't rub it in."

She giggled, which made him smile.

"You stop and get your card back, and I'll get the car," he told her.

"Got it!" she whispered conspiratorially.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

She quickly explained the situation to the host, with a backwards glance at their table. Marcia and James were still sitting there, and from the looks of things, Marcia was giving James an earful.

"Here you go Ms. Gilmore," the host said as he slid the payment slip in front of her. "Is there anything we should tell your guests?"

She signed the bill and added a fat tip, figuring that Tristan's parents, once they realized the bill was paid, would pocket the cash he'd thrown at the table. "If you could let them think they have to pay the bill for a while that'd be great," she told him with a smile.

He nodded and gave her a wink.

She heard a horn beep, and looked out the window to see Tristan sitting behind the wheel, waiting impatiently for her. She bid the host goodnight, and professed her love of the food, asking him to pass her compliments to the chef, then walked out the door and climbed into the car.

"That was fast," she said, referring to the speed at which the valet brought the car.

Tristan hung his head. "You're right, I didn't realize my dad could go from zero to complete douche bag in three hours. I thought it was a longer process than that."

"I feel bad for your mom."

"Don't," he told her firmly, "she chose to marry him, and she keeps choosing to stay with him."

Rory stared out the window, watching the world pass by for a little while. "Was he always this bad?" she finally asked.

He shook his head. "Only since my earnings left his control."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. She reached out and squeezed his hand. He didn't squeeze back, but he didn't jerk away at her touch either.

"I'm the one that should be sorry. You shouldn't have to be subjected to that."

Rory dropped his hand and laughed. "Apparently in-laws are the rain in my life. Without them, I couldn't appreciate the good things But I swear your dad and Shira may have been separated at birth…. Well except that your dad is horrible to you and only to me by extension, whereas Shira was horrible to me and only to Logan by extension."

Tristan chuckled. "Way to look on the bright side there, Molly."

"Well Chad, one of us has got to do it. Right?" she replied snarkily.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey everybody! Hope you enjoyed Dinner with the DuGreys. This chapter is a little long, but I couldn't seem to get to dinner quickly. And the night's not even over. Yes, at some point Rory has to know how it is that Tristan managed rehab without his parents finding out, and how the DuGreys managed to get out of the restaurant.<strong>

**Things I don't own: Gilmore Girls and The Go-Go's. **

**Please read and review! Coming soon we'll have some time with Paris and some time with Marty… and Tristan has to go back to work. **

**S**


	19. Chapter 19

When they returned home, Tristan headed straight for the kitchen. "A little something to kill the pain?" he asked as he held up a bottle of red wine.

"Yes please!" Rory said as she slid her heels off and made her way to the couch. She sat down on one end and tucked her legs up beneath her.

Tristan left his jacket on a barstool and came into the living room with a bottle of wine in one hand and two wine glasses dangling from the other. He set the glasses down on the coffee table and poured them each a glass of wine. He picked them both up and handed one of the to Rory before taking a seat at the other end of the couch.

"To surviving the night," he toasted, inclining his glass towards hers.

She touched the edge of her glass to his. "Amen to that. That was one of the worst dinners I've ever attended, and definitely the worst I've ever had to pay for."

Tristan groaned. "How bad was it?"

"The alcohol alone was almost five hundred dollars," she told him.

"What?" he asked as if he hadn't heard her.

"Yep, $500.00 for booze and I didn't even get to enjoy a nice buzz."

"What was the total damage?" he asked.

She looked at him for a moment. "Are you sure you want to know?" He nodded in response and she sighed. "A thousand before tip."

"Please tell me you didn't tip! I left three bills on the table."

She shook her head. "I promised them twenty percent when I made the arrangements. And I have a sneaking suspicion that once your parents finally were informed that dinner was already paid for they pocketed the money you left."

He groaned again. "They totally would do that. So $1200.00 total?"

"Thirteen. I thought they deserved a little more with the scene your parents were causing."

Tristan closed his eyes and used his free hand to rub at his face. "Can we please never see them again?"

Rory took a small sip of her wine and looked at him intently. "They're your parents, I'll leave that decision to you."

"Really? That doesn't sound like the little fixer I know," he said, taking a jab at her mediating nature.

She shrugged. "I'd like to think I learned something from four years of dealing with Logan's family. Maybe I just learned that there are some things I cannot change, and that I need to accept that."

Tristan choked on his wine. "You're going to paraphrase the Serenity Prayer to a recovering addict?" He laughed.

Rory glared at him a bit. "It works for all people. You can't claim sole use of it just because I managed not to fuck up my life."

He merely shook his head in disbelief and refilled his wine glass.

They sat in companionable silence for a little while, each drinking their wine and focusing on their own thoughts, until Rory finally broke the silence to ask a question she'd been dying to know the answer to for the last several hours. "How is it that your parents don't know you went to rehab?"

Tristan looked at her. Searching her expression for a sign of ill will. All he saw was genuine curiosity. "Obviously I didn't tell them," he said in a harsh voice.

"Why not?" Again, her voice was curious with a bit of concern, no humor, no loathing.

"Because I knew I'd never hear the end of it. There wasn't anything they could do about it, so why bother them with it."

"But Tristan," she started, leaning towards him, resting a hand on his knee. "They're your parents, don't you think if they knew, they'd want to help you?"

He laughed bitterly. "You saw them tonight, do you really think they'd help? If I told them, they would have disowned me. In some ways I think that would be better than what we have now. At least it would be more honest. But I…" he trailed off, not really knowing how to finish his statement.

"I'm sorry," she told him sincerely. She gave his thigh a reassuring rub.

He smiled at her in return and placed his own hand on top of hers giving it a small squeeze. "Thanks. And not just for that… but for everything tonight. If it wasn't for you I would have stormed out of that restaurant and not returned."

She shrugged. "If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have been there in the first place."

"Well, that's true. I suppose you'll just have to make it up to me!" he said. His usual cocky arrogance had returned.

"We'll see," she teased. "Can I get a refill here?" She held her wine glass up for him.

He refilled her glass and poured the remainder into his own glass.

"Let's watch a movie," he said suddenly. "It'll be a great way to forget about tonight."

"Okay," Rory agreed eagerly. "Where's the TV?"

Tristan laughed as she looked around the room. "It's in the den," he finally told her. He stood up and headed towards the back of the house, where Rory had never been before.

She stood up, and steadied herself with the back of the couch. "Wait for me!" she called as she stumbled after him.

He stopped, and waited for her to catch up, putting an arm around her to steady her. She giggled as he led her into the den.

The den wasn't anything spectacular. It was a large room with a U shaped couch and a media center that took up an entire wall. But the remaining walls were covered in books, and there was a pool table, and a bar in the back of the room.

Tristan handed his wine glass to Rory and vaulted over the back of the couch. Rory took the long way, and went around the couch to find a seat.

"What are we watching?" she asked as she sat down next to him.

"Casablanca?" he suggested.

She nodded agreeably as she leaned back into the couch and put her feet up on the ottoman in the center of the U.

He used the remote to maneuver through all of the files to find Casablanca on his server, and pushed play.

It wasn't more than ten minutes into the movie when he noticed Rory was asleep, leaning to one side with a partially filled wine glass in her hand. He removed the wine glass, and grabbed the throw off the back of the couch to cover her up.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory woke up to the sound of her own voice. At first she wondered if she was talking in her sleep, but then realized that she heard Tristan too. She cracked an eye open, and saw the big TV lighting up the room, showing an old episode of Molly's World. She pushed herself into an upright position and took in her surroundings. She had a vague recollection of agreeing to a movie the prior evening, but didn't really recall much more after that.

She looked down to see that she was still wearing her black dress, and that she was covered with some kind of blanket. She glanced around and found that Tristan was asleep right next to her, still dressed in his slacks and shirt from the night before. But the buttons on his shirt had been undone and his belt was on the ottoman.

"Tristan! Wake up!" she hissed as she tried to shake him awake.

"Whuh?" he responded sleepily.

"What time is it?"

Instead of responding, he just held up his arm so she could read his watch.

"It's almost 8:00!" she exclaimed. "Amanda will be here any minute." Rory attempted to get off the couch, but found the blanket tangled around her legs, causing her to land in a heap on the floor.

Tristan chuckled lightly from his still prone position. "What's the big deal?" he asked with a yawn. "It's not like we're teenagers about to get caught. We're married adults. If we choose to sleep fully dressed on the couch, who cares?"

"The tabloids!" she said as though it was the obvious answer.

"How will they know?" He was more awake now and began to shift into a sitting position.

"Amanda," she said again, as though it was obvious.

He shook his head in response. "She'd never do that."

"Maybe not to you. She loves you. But maybe to me. I freak her out," Rory told him.

Tristan made a dismissive hand gesture. "She'll come around, I'm sure of it." He picked up the remote control and clicked off the TV.

Rory made her way out of the room and upstairs.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan refolded the blanket from the night before, picked up his belt, and followed her upstairs. By the time he got to the bedroom he could hear the shower going.

He walked straight into the bathroom, just in time to catch a glimpse of his wife climbing into the shower. He expected her to snap at him, but instead she merely groaned.

"I feel like I've been hit by a truck," she told him. "I didn't have that much to drink last night."

"It's an emotional hangover," he explained. "The build up of stress and its subsequent release causes a reaction very similar to excessive alcohol on the body. Combine that with actual alcohol…"

"Got it. Please tell me you're feeling this crappy too."

He chuckled. "I've got more practice with my parents. But I'm not feeling wonderful either." Tristan slid the shower door back and began to step into the shower.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rory asked as she shampooed her hair.

"Showering?"

"Not with me, you're not." She used one hand to slide the shower door shut, not allowing Tristan to get more than his one foot into the shower.

"Come on Mol! I just want to be clean and feel better, I promise I'll keep my hands to myself," he said.

"No!" she exclaimed.

Tristan let out an annoyed huff and pulled his leg out of the shower. "Fine. Be that way." He threw on his bathrobe and hastily let himself out of the bathroom.

He returned to his bedroom. He grabbed the book from his nightstand and went to sit in the lounge chair by the window.

He opened the book, but he couldn't focus. Why was he all of the sudden irritated that Rory wouldn't let him in the shower? They weren't intimate, nor was his bathroom a locker room. He wasn't even really sure what made him attempt to climb into the shower with her. One minute he was considering whether he could use the toilet while she was in the shower, and the next minute he'd stripped off his clothes and was climbing into the shower. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to focus on the book in his lap.

The only image that he could see was Rory's naked backside. She really had grown into a beautiful woman. In years past he'd assured himself that it was all digital enhancement. She couldn't really look that good. He remembered her from Molly's World. She was cute. But she was a kid. Now that he'd spent time with her, and seen her au natural, he had to revise his opinion.

Tristan snapped the book closed and tossed it on the floor before leaning back and closing his eyes.

He lay there for a while, just listening to the sounds around him. He heard the water shut off, then the bathroom door open and close again.

"Tristan," he heard Rory whisper. "The bathroom's free."

He kept his eyes closed and didn't acknowledge her, hoping she'd think he was asleep. He remained still until he heard his bedroom door open and then shut, and the door to the bedroom next to his open.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory shut the door to her own room and leaned against it. She wondered if Tristan was really asleep next door, or if he was just faking it. She pushed herself off the door and made her way into the closet to find something to wear.

While she picked out her clothes, she thought about what had happened earlier. She couldn't believe Tristan had just tried to climb into the shower with her. It just seemed so… wrong. So… naughty. She blushed at the thought of the things they could have done in that shower.

Rory wasn't a prude, despite Tristan's expressions to the contrary. She just couldn't fathom doing those things with someone that she didn't like. She wasn't one of those people that thought that sex had to involve love, but she did think it had to at least involve some degree of trust and respect. She and Tristan definitely did not have either of those components.

She pulled a dark blue sweater out of her closet and paired it with some jeans. That would have to do for the day. She truly hoped Micah would arrive soon with her clothes, most of what she had with her was for a New England fall, and would be way to warm for LA. She dressed quickly and made her way downstairs with her hair still up in a towel.

"Good morning Ms. Gilmore," Amanda said as soon as Rory hit the main floor. "I've got coffee ready for you."

Rory smiled. "You are a goddess! Thank you. And please, call me Rory." She took the cup that Amanda was offering her and set it on the counter to add cream and sugar.

"Sure thing Ms. Gil- Rory," she corrected herself. "Can I get you anything to eat?"

She thought about it for a moment as she took the first sip of her coffee. "Do we have any muffins?"

"I can make you some!" Amanda said eagerly. "Do you want blueberry or banana nut or chocolate chip?"

"What kind does Tristan like?" Rory asked curiously. It was a random factoid she felt she should know about her husband.

"He prefers blueberry, but he'll eat any of them."

"Chocolate chip then!" Rory exclaimed. "I love chocolate chip muffins."

Amanda smiled cautiously at her. "It'll be just about twenty minutes for me to make them. I'll come find you when they're done."

Rory nodded in acknowledgement then set off to check out the rest of the house. She wanted to see the den in the light, and examine all of the bookshelves.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The bookshelves held tons of books. Rory was surprised to find that they seemed to span the genres. There were a ton of classics though. John must have been an English major. Most of the books looked as though they'd been read. Some of them more than once.

Despite seeing Tristan with The Three Musketeers, Rory couldn't imagine him as a reader. While she'd had tutors on the set of Molly's World to supplement the times she got pulled out of school, she'd never seen Tristan so much as crack a book.

She ran her fingers along the spines of the books, pausing when she reached a copy of The Great Gatsby. She loved that book. She'd read for Daisy in the most recent incarnation of the film, but the part had gone to someone else. She was just about to pull out the book and start reading when she heard a loud slam followed by: "Dammit! Dammit all to hell!" Tristan shouted. "RORY!"

She froze for a moment, not know what to do, or what was going on.

"Rory! Where are you?" Tristan hollered.

"In the den!" she shouted back. She wasn't sure why he was so upset, but she was fairly certain it wasn't because of anything she'd done.

She heard the thunder of his feet racing down the stairs and it wasn't long before she heard door to the den open and immediately shut again.

"Have you seen this?" he asked.

"Seen what?" she replied, turning to face him. He was holding his phone out to her.

"This morning's fucking Star website." It was almost as if she could feel the anger in the air around him.

She shook her head in response. "I haven't even checked my phone this morning."

He thrust his phone at her to look. She glanced at the screen and saw the caption larger than life. _Trouble in paradise for Gilmore already?_ The caption was above a picture of Tristan outside Providence smoking a cigarette.

"Is this where you disappeared to during dinner?" she asked calmly.

"Read the blurb." Tristan paced around the room as he waited.

_While spokespeople from both camps claim that Gilmore and DuGrey are blissfully happy and madly in love, actions may be louder than words. Not more than 20 minutes into dinner DuGrey angrily left the table, not to return for another 20 minutes. What's got this supposedly happily married man outside chain smoking? Sources say the couple was dining with his parents and DuGrey had to step outside to "cool off" after a spat. Gilmore remained behind and continued to enjoy the meal. Apparently, DuGrey dragged his wife off before the conclusion of the meal. Sadly, I smell trouble for these two already. _

Rory set the phone down gently, wishing it was an actual newspaper so she could throw it, or tear it up, or better yet, burn it. "That's total crap!" she exclaimed. "Well, except the part about us being blissfully happy and madly in love, of course," she added in a sarcastic tone.

"We're never going back to that restaurant again," Tristan said firmly. "And we're never seeing my parents in public again. If they demand an audience, they can have it in private."

Rory smiled. "That'll sure make social climbing harder," she said. "Sorry, I know they're your parents."

He sighed. "No, sadly you're right. That's all they want, and dammit, I'm not going to give it to them."

"I guess this means we have some public niceties to make today," Rory said with a groan.

Tristan groaned, but before he could say anything, the door to the den opened and Amanda stuck her head in.

"Ms. Gil- Rory, your muffins are ready."

"We'll be right there," Rory told her kindly, trying to make up for Tristan's death glare.

Amanda turned to leave the room, and paused "Tris, your coffee is ready."

"Thanks," he mumbled gruffly.

The door shut and Rory and Tristan stood perfectly still, almost as if in a stand off. "Amanda calls you Tris? Isn't that a little… personal?"

"You've asked her to call you Rory," he replied.

She sighed. "True, but everyone calls me Rory." She wasn't sure if she was bothered by the familiarity between the two, or if she was just trying to understand it. The Tristan she knew thought that the production staff was below him. Anyone who made less money than he did was considered below him. "You just don't seem the type to be friends with the help," she finally said.

His look darkened into a glare. "Don't presume you know anything about me," he said sharply. He spun around and left the room.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She followed him out of the room in search of her muffins.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan picked up his coffee and sat down at the island in the kitchen to help himself to a muffin. Who did she think she was? _He wasn't the type to be friends with the help?_ What did Rory Gilmore know about him? Absolutely nothing, that's what. He scowled as he split his muffin open and buttered it.

"You okay Tris?" Amanda asked.

"Fine," he said shortly. "Just pissed off about this Star article."

He hadn't even taken a bite of his muffin when Rory appeared in the kitchen.

"Here is your muffin Ms… Rory," Amanda told her shyly.

"Thanks. These look great." Rory put a muffin on a plate, and carried it with her to the couch where she sat and picked it apart while she finished her coffee.

Tristan helped himself to a second muffin and then a third. He glanced over at Rory to find her cradling her coffee cup and staring out the window.

He cleared his throat, and Rory dropped her gaze from the window to the coffee cup. "I was thinking we'd go to the beach for lunch. Get corndogs on the pier and wander around." Something so public would guarantee that the press got pictures of them out being cute and couple-y.

"That's fine," she replied absently. She stood up, leaving her plate with most of her muffin still on the coffee table. She refilled her coffee cup and headed up the stairs.

Tristan didn't say a word, he just watched her go. He took the last swallow of coffee, and set the mug down on the counter. "Breakfast was great. Thanks Mandy."

He took the steps two at a time and headed into his bedroom. He was surprised to find Rory in the lounge he'd vacated earlier.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee.

Tristan growled in frustration. "Fine. Don't say anything." He went into his closet and began to pull out a tank top and some running shorts.

He came out of the closet a few minutes later, dressed for his run, to find Rory in the exact same spot. He sighed. "We'll leave for lunch at 11:00 sharp."

She continued to stare out the window, not acknowledging that he'd said anything.

"Could you at least acknowledge that you heard me? A 'fine' or even a nod would suffice," he snarled angrily.

"I heard you," she said quietly.

He threw his hands up and headed towards the door.

"Tristan, wait," she called after him, still speaking softly.

"What?" he asked, not bothering to turn and face her.

She sighed, but didn't speak. He turned to face her finally, and repeated his earlier word. "What?"

Rory set down her cup on the table and stood up. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Just because I was an elitist snob fifteen years ago doesn't mean that I still am," he said flatly.

"I know that. Or rather, I'm trying to know that."

He turned away from her to leave the room again. "People change," he reminded her over his shoulder.

"Have a good run."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory sank back into the chair after Tristan left for his run. She had to stop thinking that she knew him so well. She just kept sticking her foot in her mouth. She picked up her cup of coffee again and took another sip. Amanda made good coffee.

She picked up her phone to check her email. She had a text from Micah telling her he'd be over at 10 with a load of her clothes. She glanced at the time to see that he would be arriving in less than a half an hour. She felt the vibration that indicated her emails had finished downloading. There were several from her publicist and her agent about her upcoming availability. She scrolled down further and found one from an address she didn't recognize. She did recognize the name though.

_From: Jess Mariano  
>To: Rory Gilmore<br>Re: Article _

_Hey Rory, _

_Attached, you'll find my article for Rolling Stone. It's not going to print until next week, so feel free to read it over and send me any notes you've got.  
>I hope things are going well for you.<em>

_Jess_

She clicked on the attachment and waited for it to load.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the delay… life got in the way, as did a bit of muse misdirection… although from the reviews I've gotten, it sounds like people were happy to see the return of Dyslexic Heart. I still don't own anything… and the next chapter will have Jess's article in it. If only I could add pictures… <strong>

**Please read and review!**

**S**


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chad and Molly – Happily Ever After**_

_By Jess Mariano _

_I never in a million years thought I'd be sitting where I am today. And where exactly is that, you ask? I'm sitting across from Molly Taylor and Chad Michaels… all grown up and married! That's right, in a surprise wedding that shocked the country… or at least celebrity stalkers everywhere, Rory Gilmore and Tristan DuGrey got married. _

_I'm sure my colleagues all around the country are wondering what it is that I've done to get this interview. Well, to answer that, I have to tell you a little bit about myself. My mom died when I was a kid, and I was sent off to a small town in Connecticut to live with my uncle. I arrived at the age of six, and walked into my new first grade class to find it completely different that what I'd expect. Apparently even as a child I had a New Yorkers expectations. The only two people that looked even remotely cool to me were two little girls. So being the suave six year old I was, I made my way over and introduced myself. I soon found out their names were Elena Kim and Lorelai Hayden… we hit it off instantly and became the best of friends. These girls are better known to all of you as Hep Alien drummer Lane Kim and actress Rory Gilmore. _

_Imagine my surprise when I was back in Connecticut visiting my uncle to find my old friend Rory in the same place at the same time. She and her new husband were in town to visit her father. Being the persuasive fellow that I am, I convinced them to give me an exclusive interview, so here you have it. _

_JM: Rory, what the hell?_

_RG: (Laughing) I know right? You'd never expect it. _

_TD: That's what makes it so much fun. _

_(Aside: Tristan and Rory do a lot of cute little things, I'm going to probably leave most of them out… there are pictures to go along with this, so you don't need me describing how Rory gazes adoringly at Tristan, or how Tristan pulls her close and kisses her… a lot.) _

_JM: We (meaning the people) didn't even know you were dating! How did you manage such a quiet courtship?_

_TD: After living in the spotlight for so many years, don't you think we've learned some tricks? _

_RG: You'd be amazed what a wig and a rental car can do._

_JM: But seriously… Rory you just broke up with Logan. How did you get here so quickly?_

_RG: (she snorts…it's not very ladylike, I know) When you know, you know. _

_JM: Tristan, would you like to clarify that?_

_TD: (he shrugs, equally nonchalantly) Rory and I ran into each other a little while back, and we just started talking. We hadn't seen each other much over the years, but we've always had respect for each other. We'd both recently been through rough break ups, and we were helping each other get through the rough times. _

_JM: I bet many out there would speculate that this is just a response to Logan's engagement. What do you think?_

_(Aside: Here I had to stop and wait for a few minutes because all that could be heard was the two of them laughing hysterically.)_

_RG: (still gasping for breath) Absolutely not. We wish Logan and Fallon all the happiness that we have. And frankly, the thought that I would do something like this for revenge or whatever is just offensive. _

_TD: Really, I should send Logan a thank you card. _

_RG: Tristan! _

_JM: Moving on... So what made you choose to get married in the middle of the night in Atlantic City?_

_TD: It just felt right, you know? I just knew I couldn't stand to spend another moment apart from this wonderful woman. _

_RG: (wiping a tear from her eye) You have to admit, when a man says something like that, you can't help but want to marry him. _

_JM: Anyhow… so according to fan sites, Molly's World viewers are just over the moon about this… what do you two think?_

_RG: I think that wherever she is, Molly Taylor is elated at this turn of events. _

_TD: Personally, I don't care what Chad Michaels thinks about this, but I'm very happy with this turn of events._

_JM: So what are your plans for the future?_

_TD: Lots of sex?_

_RG: (blushing madly) Tristan! _

_JM: He really is the bad boy everybody thinks he is, isn't he? _

_RG: (She shrugs) Tristan's a much better actor than anyone gives him credit for. _

_TD: Hey now! Don't go telling my secrets!_

_RG: Come on Tris, we're among friends here._

_LK: Yeah Tris. We're all friends! Tell us the truth… did you marry Rory here to polish your reputation?_

_RG: Lane!_

_JM: Hey, I'm the one doing the interview. _

_LK: (huffs) Fine._

_JM: But it is a good question…_

_TD: (he sighs, resigned to answer the question) Honestly? I don't give a shit about my reputation. If I wasn't madly in love with this woman, you couldn't have paid me to step into the media circus that is her life. _

_JM: Fair enough. So, is there a chance of a Molly's World reunion show?_

_RG: I doubt it, at least not in the foreseeable future. Tristan and I are both really busy with our own projects right now. And frankly, any free time we do have will be spent… well, not working on Molly's World. _

_TD: (giving his wife a wolfish gaze) We want to settle in to married life. And really, as much as we owe Chad and Molly, we aren't them. _

_(We talked for a while longer… but honestly, it would probably be boring to even the most devout fans. Who cares which side of the bed Tristan sleeps on [the right] or how much sugar Rory puts in her coffee [two packets]. And some of it went into the realm of old friends catching up, and really, even though I am a journalist, I value my friends' privacy.)_

_JM: So Lane, how do you feel about this development? _

_LK: Well Jess, Rory's been my best friend for all of my life, and honestly, I've never seen her happier. _

_JM: Were you present for the wedding?_

_LK: No. And I'm a little bit bummed that I missed my chance to wear an outrageous bridesmaid dress. (laughing) But seriously… I wish I could have been there, but I completely understand why I wasn't._

_JM: Do you like Tristan better than Logan?_

_RG: Do NOT answer that question Lane Kim! _

_JM: Alright, question withdrawn. How about we take some pictures? _

_(Since I didn't have a photographer with me, you'll have to make do with the ones I've taken.)_

_RG: Do we have to?_

_TM: Come on Mol, it'll be fun. _

_RG: Chad! (she groans) It's not fair! You're gorgeous!_

_Yes, that's right, they call each other Chad and Molly sometimes. If that isn't just disgustingly sweet, I don't know what is. We spent another hour or so taking pictures, and in the end, the best of them are printed here for your enjoyment. As they parted I got a tiny bit of wisdom from them._

_JM: What is it that you think it takes to make a celebrity marriage work?_

_RG: For the people involved not to treat each other like celebrities. _

_TD: We're just Tristan and Rory. There's no pomp and circumstance at home._

_RG: We love each other, and we respect each other… just like any non-celebrity couple. _

_TD: We're living our lives for us, not for the press or the fans or anyone else. _

_JM: Well best of luck to the both of you._

* * *

><p>Rory, let me know what you think. I changed some wording around, not using exact quotes and all. I can change it back if you like, but I thought this flowed a little better. – Jess<p>

Changed the wording around? He'd all out fabricated some stuff. But at least it made them sound good. She moved on to the pictures and clicked the attachments one by one. She examined each one critically, but Jess had a surprisingly good eye for these things. She and Tristan actually looked happy and dare she say it, in love. They looked like a real couple.

Despite spending four years with Logan, she could honestly say that there were no pictures of the two of them that looked this happy. They were happy, but every picture taken of them was posed for.

Rory got to the last shot, the picture of the two them kissing. While she remembered the event, the sheer realness of the picture took her breath away. Tristan was cradling her face as though she was precious to him, and she was leaning into him as if his mere presence were essential to her life force.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know, I know, it's short and it's taken forever! But here's Jess's article. I'm part way though the next bit. I was going to combine them into one, but I lost some words due to a crash, and I'm having a hard time getting them back. (Or recreating them as the case may be)<strong>

**As usual, I don't own anything. **

**Thank you for reading and reviewing… and you all owe princetongirl a big thanks for being in my inbox on a regular basis encouraging me to update. **

**S**


	21. Chapter 21

Rory was still staring at the pictures from Jess's article when Tristan returned from his run.

"Are you okay?" he asked, still panting a little.

"Yeah," Rory replied absently.

"Well, we're supposed to be leaving in about 10 minutes, and your assistant has been moving your clothes in for the last half an hour."

Her head popped up, and she made eye contact with him. "Micah's here?"

"Apparently. Amanda showed him where to put your clothes. Seriously Rory, what's going on, are you okay?" he asked again.

She thrust her phone at him. "I got a copy of Jess's article. Here. You should read it." Once the phone was safely in his hands, she left the room.

He took her seat and began to read. When he got to the end of the article, he was surprised at how real Jess managed to portray them. If he wasn't living the charade, he would believe every word Jess wrote. It came across as honest, there were enough jabs in there so it didn't sound like a promo piece for a friend, and Tristan thought the addition of Jess's own life experiences gave it credibility. He only wished Jess had added the bit about Atlantic City being Paris's idea... but then again he probably didn't want to deal with a pissed off Paris.

Tristan clicked on the second file and began to scroll through the pictures that had been chosen for the article. Again he and Rory looked real. For the most part Tristan no longer dressed to impress. The press paid absolutely no attention to him unless he was at a big event that would require being dressed up, or he royally screwed up, and in those cases, he didn't care what he looked like. But he couldn't think of a time he'd ever seen Rory looking anything less than press ready in a picture. She was never caught in public on laundry day, or caught doing something that shouldn't appear on film. Yet somehow, in these pictures, she looked amazing to him. Twenty times better than in any press photo he'd seen of her.

The last photo came up, and Tristan enlarged the center of the frame so he could get a closer look at it. Rory was leaning into him like he was her rock. How come he didn't notice that when the pictures were taken? And how come he didn't remember cradling her face? If this picture didn't convince the world they were in love, then nothing would. Hell Tristan was almost convinced they were in love, and he knew the absolute truth.

He closed the window and set the phone on the table before heading back for another quick shower.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory stuck her head into her 'closet' and found Micah stacking the last of the wardrobe boxes against the wall.

"It's a good thing you have an extra bedroom as your closet, I'm pretty sure all of your clothes won't fit in one closet. In fact, I have no clue how they all fit in your old closet!" Micah exclaimed.

She blushed slightly at being called out on her excesses. "I really should donate some of this stuff," she admitted wistfully. "But part of me is hoping that some day I'll be able to wear something a second time!"

Micah laughed. "So where's your husband?"

"Getting ready for our outing."

"Where are you heading?" he asked curiously. Being partly responsible for her PR, he knew how the Star article looked.

Rory hummed for a moment, trying to remember. "The pier, I think."

He thought about that for a moment before responding. "That's probably a good place, it won't look like you're trying to hide from anyone there."

They were awkwardly silent for a moment or two, before Rory finally spoke. "So, how do I know what's in each box?"

"I took stuff out of your closet in chunks, box one starts closest to the door. I also tried to write on the outside of the box what's in it."

Given that her closet was super organized, it wouldn't be too hard for her to find almost anything. "Great, thanks." She had another moment of awkward silence as she tried to figure out a way to dismiss him. "So... I need to change," she finally blurted out.

Micah turned slightly pink, and glanced down at his shoes. "Right, right. Sorry. I'll go then."

"I want you to meet Tristan, so just go down stairs, don't leave yet!" she said quickly as he darted for the door. "Maybe Amanda will give you coffee and a muffin... she made chocolate chip this morning."

He nodded and left the room. As soon as the door closed, Rory closed her eyes and tried to picture her old closet. It was organized by item then by color. So shirts were first from tank tops to long sleeved shirts, and then from light to dark within each type. She opened the second box, and found the light blue short-sleeved shirt she was looking for. She scanned down the row of boxes to find the first one labeled skirts. She was looking for a shorter dark blue skirt. There were only two boxes labeled 'skirts' and she didn't have many long skirts, so it was probably in the second box. She opened the box and flipped through a few skirts before finding the dark blue printed skirt she was looking for. She quickly changed into the outfit she'd chosen, now all she needed was shoes. She glanced around the room but didn't see any shoe boxes. She opened the closet, but found that nothing in there had changed.

Rory stuck her head out of the bedroom door and called down the stairs, "Micah, where are my shoes?"

"Sorry Miss Gilmore, some of them are down here in the living room, the rest are still in the van."

"That's okay!" She grabbed the ballet flats she'd been wearing frequently and padded down the stairs.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Tristan! Hurry up!" Rory yelled.

"I'm coming!" he hollered back as he shut the bedroom door behind himself. "I brought your phone."

"Oh yeah, I forgot I'd left that with you. Hurry up and come meet Micah."

He moved slowly down the stairs on purpose, just to watch Rory get annoyed with him. He came to the bottom of the stairs, then crossed the room to where everyone was standing. Micah was not what he expected. He expected some meek shrimpy guy, not a dark haired version of himself with an extra two inches and an extra 50 pounds. Micah was not someone to get on the bad side of.

"Tristan, this is Micah."

"Hello," Micah said quietly. For such a big guy, he had a very small voice. Tristan wondered if he was gay.

"Nice to meet you," he said as he stuck his hand out to shake.

Micah nodded and shook his hand. "You too."

"Okay, so we're off!" Rory said quickly not wanting to drag the meeting out any longer, or delay their outing. She just wanted to get it over with.

"Amanda, can you make lasagna for dinner?" Tristan asked as Rory pulled him out the door.

"Sure..." she called after him.

"What's the rush?" Tristan asked as Rory climbed into the passengers seat.

She shrugged. "No rush. Just want to get out of the house is all."

He snapped his seat belt in place then started the car, waiting for it to warm up. "Why?"

"Why not?" she asked in an aggravated tone.

"Okay, we're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on," Tristan said, trying to put his foot down.

"Ha!" she burst out, then sat in silence.

"I mean it, what's going on?"

She thought about it for a moment, trying to decide whether she should answer him. "How about, I'll tell you if you start driving."

He put the car in reverse and backed out of the garage.

He'd hardly pulled on to the street before he asked her again what was going on.

"What do you think it is?" she asked, trying to lob the ball into his court.

He sighed. "Obviously this has something to do with Jess's article," he started. "But I thought it was well written, I don't see why you're so bothered by it. You knew it was coming."

She huffed from her seat and stared out the window for a moment. "I didn't expect him to all out fabricate things."

Tristan shrugged. "The whole thing is an all out lie."

"I know!" she yelled. "But I didn't expect him to make up quotes."

"What did he make up?" Tristan asked.

"_Honestly, I don't give a shit about my reputation. If I wasn't madly in love with this woman, you couldn't have paid me to step into the media circus that is her life_," she quoted to remind him.

"He didn't make that up."

"WHAT?!" Rory yelled. "How did I miss that?"

"Okay, he didn't make it up entirely. You were in the bathroom when it happened."

"Tell me more. Now!" she said firmly.

"Don't get mad," he started. "I just didn't like the insinuations that Lane was making. I told him I wouldn't have stepped into the media circus if I didn't respect you."

"But you don't respect me! You hate me."

He snorted. "They don't know that."

"You could have just left it alone. Jess wouldn't have printed anything that made either of us look bad!"

Tristan shrugged and continued as though she hadn't spoken. "So that's what's bothering you."

"What's not to bother me? My life is a joke," she said sullenly.

"Where's that famous can do Gilmore attitude?" he asked as he reached over and nudged her arm. "Huh?"

A small smile broke out of the frown that was dangerously close to becoming a permanent fixture on her face. "Gilmores don't have can do attitudes, we medicate with junk food."

"Well then I guess the pier is the right place for me to take you today."

"How come you aren't upset by all of this. Jess makes you look like you care about me. Doesn't that bother you?"

Tristan sighed and drove in silence for a few minutes, trying to formulate an answer that wouldn't further upset Rory. Finally he decided to just go with the truth, reaction be dammed. "It makes me look good. I can't be upset by that."

She huffed indignantly. "All you really care about is your image isn't it? Jess is okay because he makes you look good, but heaven forbid that Lane make an insinuation that just happens to be truthful! Can't you just be honest? You really are a better actor than anyone gives you credit for."

"Rory, you really don't want me to "just be honest" in this situation," he reminded her.

"Just leave me alone."

They drove in silence for a few miles before he tried again. "Rory?"

"I meant it when I said to leave me alone," she said emotionlessly.

He started to speak again, but she cut him. "Look, it's my life that's a total joke. I'd just appreciate it if you wouldn't try to make it worse." She spoke to the window, not even bothering to glance in his direction.

Instead of trying again, he just kept driving.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory watched the miles pass and tried to calm herself down. She was the one selfishly insisting Tristan stay married to her just to avoid a little — okay, a lot of — bad press. Why was she so angry that he wanted to get as much as possible out of the situation? She found herself unusually perplexed. Normally she understood her own inner workings. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She needed to get her mood under control before they got to the pier.

"Rory," Tristan started quietly, "we're here."

She opened her eyes to find herself in the valet line in a parking lot. The press caravan that had been camped outside of their house had followed them all the way to the pier. She smiled at Tristan and let the valet help her out of the car.

As soon as Tristan was out of the car, he was at her side with an arm around her shoulder. She plastered on a blissfully happy smile and let him lead her into the pier.

"So, about earlier," he started.

She shook off his attempt and changed the subject. "What do you want to do first? Do you like rides?"

He sighed through his own happy smile. "Really?" She nodded and he continued, "How about shopping first?"

They strolled around the stalls for about an hour, occasionally, one of them would stop and look at something. Mostly they were followed by the press, so they smiled and laughed a lot. Rory signed a few autographs, and they posed for a few pictures.

It seemed like the further they got from the entrance, the more people just left them alone. That was how they found themselves in a vinyl shop. Tristan walked the store with purpose, and Rory merely trailed behind him. When he finally stopped at a rack, she picked the row next to him and began to flip through albums.

"So, what are you looking for?" she asked.

He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "I'm not sure. It's one of those things, I'll know it when I see it."

"Oh, okay." She could understand that. She flipped through albums trying to get a feeling for the kind of music that Tristan liked. She was surrounded by old stuff. Standards, jazz and the blues. She picked up an Ella Fitzgerald album and began scanning the track listings. "Do you like Ella Fitzgerald?"

He glanced up from his stack and saw the album in her hand. "Yeah. That's a good album, I have it at home."

She put it back down and resumed flipping through sleeves.

'Stop!" he called out.

She paused and looked over at him. "What?"

"Go back!" She flipped backwards a few albums, and he reached out and snatched an album from her pile.

"I've been looking for this for ages!" he exclaimed as he slid the vinyl out of it's sleeve to check the condition.

"Oh. Cool," she said uncertainly. "Why don't you just download the album? You could get from Amazon or iTunes in heartbeat."

Tristan smiled. It was a smile she hadn't seen in a long time. It was Chad Michaels' 'I know something you don't know' smile. "The sound quality is so much... better... on vinyl."

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

He nodded. "It's not really better, I guess. A cd is typically more crisp, but there's something more authentic about listening to music like this in the format it was meant to be heard. All of the crackles and pops of the studio and the equipment."

She took in this new information and smiled. "Neat."

"I'll show you when we get home. I'll get one of these tracks from iTunes and then play it right after you hear the record."

He carried the BB King album to the counter and waited for the cashier to ring him up.

"Are you hungry?" Tristan asked as he tucked the parcel under one arm leaving the other free to tuck Rory under.

Rory shrugged. She'd been dying for some good old fashioned comfort eating, but a public place was typically a bad place for an actress to indulge in that sport. "I could go for a corn dog."

"Anything else?"

She really wanted to say funnel cake, or cotton candy, or deep fried Twinkies, but she held her tongue. "That's it for now."

They wove their way through the crowds to some storage lockers so they could stow their purchases while they ate and enjoyed the rides, then found the nearest hotdog stand.

"So just one corn dog?" Tristan asked to confirm before ordering.

"How many are you having?" Rory asked innocently.

"One."

"Okay, just one for me."

Tristan stepped up to the counter and ordered three corn dogs, handed the woman working the register a twenty and wandered down to the other end of the counter to wait for his order to be up. Rory followed behind him, holding on to his purchase.

It wasn't more than a minute before a man in an apron came out from the back and dropped three corn dogs in front of him. "Condiments are over there," he said as he pointed across the way to a free standing bar littered in napkins and splattered in ketchup and mustard.

"Thanks." He took the tray of corn dogs, each of them in their own wrappers, and made his way over to the condiment cart with Rory on his heels.

"How come there are there three?" she asked.

Tristan shrugged, "I thought an extra might not be a bad idea, in case one of us is hungrier than we thought."

"Okay."

He handed her a corn dog and picked one up himself. "So what do you put on these?"

"Whatever you like," she said as she expertly added both ketchup and mustard to hers.

"What if I don't know what I like?" he asked.

She looked up from her corn dog to find him watching her. "You're the one that suggested corn dogs! Haven't you had one before?" He shrugged. "Wow, and I thought I was sheltered," she said with a small smile. "So what do you like on your hotdogs?"

"Ketchup, relish and onions," he said confidently. She looked at the condiment table, there was no relish or onions to be found.

"How about you just have ketchup then? Or maybe put a little puddle of mustard on the side and you can dip it."

"Okay, and what about the third one?" he asked as he put puddles of ketchup and mustard on the tray so he could dip into either or both of them.

Rory watched as he created the puddles. "Just make bigger puddles and who ever eats the third one can dip."

They found a small table and sat down to eat. Since Tristan needed to dip, walking and eating wasn't an option.

"This is better than I expected," Tristan admitted after his third bite.

Rory merely smiled, because her mouth was full. She had inhaled her corn dog and was eyeing the third one, wondering if there was any way she'd be able to eat it. She glanced around to find that for the first time all day, there weren't a bunch of eyes on them. They'd been left to eat their lunch just like any other couple.

"Wanna share the third one?" he asked after he swallowed the last bite.

"Sure," she said hoping she didn't sound too eager.

He picked up the stick and dipped the dog in ketchup and took the first bite. Then he dipped it in both the ketchup and the mustard and offered the next bite to Rory.

She gave him a menacing glare as she took the offered bite, silently warning him not to do something stupid like shove the thing down her throat.

"You really don't trust me, do you?" he asked in a low voice, as he took the corn dog back and took another bite himself.

This time it was Rory's turn to shrug. "Like you keep pointing out to me, I don't know you." She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice, but she didn't think she was successful. "The Tristan I did know would have no problem jamming a corn dog down my throat."

He offered Rory the stick with the last bite of corn dog on it. "Here, it's all yours."

She polished off the last bite and stood up to throw the container in the trash. "What should we do next?"

"Do you still want to go on rides?" he asked as he threw his wadded up napkin into the trash.

She thought about it for a second. "Maybe not so soon after eating." She thought she saw a momentary glimpse of relief flash across Tristan's eyes.

"How about some games?"

"What kind of games?" Rory asked hesitantly.

He smiled. "You know, Make a Basket Win a Prize, sort of stuff."

Rory shook her head. "I'm not good at sports."

"These aren't sports, they're games," Tristan reminded her.

"Is there a ball involved?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then in the Gilmore book, it's a sport. Besides, I don't want the world to know I can't shoot a basket or what ever it is."

"How about Ski-Ball then?" Tristan suggested.

Rory sighed, "uh, it has BALL right in the name!"

Tristan laughed, and for some reason that made her just want to kick him. "You're playing against the machine. You get tickets in the end to buy a prize. Even if you do badly, you'll still get some tickets."

She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment then opened them again. "Fine. But no making fun of me if I suck at this." She stuck out her hand to shake his.

"No making fun," he repeated shaking her hand to seal the agreement. He glanced around the area looking for the Ski-Ball machines. When he found them he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards them, stopping at a change machine to get a bucket full of quarters. "That's another $10 on the tab," he said with a grin.

She stuck her tongue out at him, but continued to follow him to the machines.

He found two empty machines together and put the bucket of coins in between them for easy access. "Okay, the game is simple. It's like bowling. You just take the little ball and roll it up the ramp trying to get it into the various holes. You can see that each hole is worth a different amount of points. The harder the goal, the higher the points. Got it?"

Rory nodded uncertainly.

Tristan took a couple of quarters from the cup and dropped them into the machine making the lights light up and the balls drop down into the chute. "Ready?"

She picked up the ball and tossed it at the ramp. It hit the ramp and bounced back at her, causing her to jump out of the way, and Tristan to hiss with laughed. "I told you I wasn't good at this!"

"Sorry," he said quickly as he stifled his laughter. "I told you this was like bowling, do you throw a bowling ball like that?"

"I haven't been bowling since I was 6. I dropped the ball on Jess's foot and we had to cut the party short to go to the emergency room." She looked down at her feet as she made this admission, and waited for Tristan to erupt with laughter. After a minute of silence she looked up to find him staring at her. He had a small smirk on his face, but other than that, there were no signs that he found her childhood misfortune humorous.

Tristan picked up the ball that was on the ground and handed it Rory. "I'll show you how to do this," he said as he stepped behind her. "Show me how you hold the ball."

She held up the ball in the palm of her hand, and let him adjust her grip.

"Now you roll it up the ramp." She put the ball on the edge of the ramp and rolled it towards the holes. However, given the force of her roll it only made it part way up the ramp and started to roll back towards her.

"Do you want me to demonstrate?" he asked, showing a surprising amount of patience.

"Sure," Rory told him. She was surprised that he was willing to teach her. Logan would have pulled her into a hug and told her how cute it was that she couldn't do what ever it was, then moved on to the next thing. She expected Tristan to be similar, except slightly more condescending. Instead she watched as he stepped up to retrieved the ball that had rolled back down the ramp, and then made sure she was watching him as he took his stance and rolled the ball up the ramp with just enough force that it landed in one of the 30 point holes.

"Do you want to watch again or are you ready to try?" he asked. She couldn't sense and sarcasm coming from. It seemed like he truly wanted her to learn how to play Ski-Ball.

"It looks simple enough," she told him as she picked up the next ball and got ready to try again. Tristan leaned against the machine to watch her. She pulled back her arm, then stopped, fearful that she'd drop the ball at the wrong time again. "How about you guide me?"

He smiled and pushed himself off the machine. "Sure." He moved to stand behind her and guide her arm like he were showing her how to swing a golf club or a baseball bat. He took her right wrist in his hand and began to pull it back. "Hold on to the ball until I say to let it go, okay?"

Rory nodded eagerly. He pulled her arm back about 45 degrees, then started to push it forward. "Now!" She released the ball on the upswing and they both watched it roll up the ramp and pop up into the 10 point ring.

"Yes!" Rory exclaimed with an excited fist pump.

"Wanna do another practice one?" he asked.

"Yeah."

They practiced in the same manner with the remaining 4 balls, and Rory finally started to figure out when to release the ball and how hard it needed to be thrown, the last ball even landed in the 40 hole. When the last ball was swallowed, the machine began to spit out tickets.

Rory eagerly gathered the tickets. "What do we do with these?"

Tristan laughed. "There's like six of them. I bet you could maybe buy a Tootsie Roll with those."

"Oh." Her face fell. "This is just the first thing I've ever won."

"How about we play a few more games and try to get some more tickets?" he suggested.

Realizing that her excitement was maybe a bit over the top, she tried to sound nonchalant as she answered, "Sure."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

He couldn't believe it, she'd never won anything before? This girl that had more money than anyone person could spend in three lifetimes was excited over winning a few paper tickets.

"Can we both play? Or do you want me to continue to help you?" he asked.

She thought about it a moment before answering. "We can both play, as long as it's not a competition."

"Okay," he agreed with a grin.

They spent the next 30 minutes playing Ski-Ball in relative silence. Mainly the noise was Rory cheering for herself when she managed to get the ball in any hole that wasn't the 10 point U. The tickets were just collecting at the base of the machines. Admittedly Tristan was paying more attention to Rory's game than his own. When she said she didn't play sports, she meant it. For an actress, she was surprisingly clumsy. He didn't remember that from their time on Molly's World. But then again, he didn't remember a lot from his time on Molly's World.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She must have noticed he'd stopped playing.

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "I just thought I'd save some quarters for Whack-A-Mole."

"They have Whack-A-Mole?" she asked excitedly.

"They should. Every place like this does. Wait, how do you know Whack-A-Mole and not Ski-Ball?"

"Lane sent me the app for my iPhone when Logan and I broke up. She thought it would be cathartic."

Tristan tipped his head back and let out a huge laugh. "That's priceless!" he exclaimed. "We are definitely going to play Whack-A-Mole. Can I pretend that my moles are Logan too?"

Rory gave him a dirty look. "Who says Logan's the mole now? Maybe it's you," she said saucily.

"Me? Nah," he shrugged it off. "I brought you here. Admit it, you're having fun today."

She smiled. "I am."

"Then you can't pretend the moles are me."

"Fine, today the moles won't be you," she conceded. "But lets go find them!"

He stooped to collect their pile of tickets as Rory looked around for the Whack-A-Mole stands. "Looks like you can afford more than just one Tootsie Roll now." He glanced up when she didn't respond and noticed she was 30 feet away, in a crowd of people, headed towards the game. He grabbed the bucket of coins and jogged over to where she was, not wanting to leave her alone for some reason.

After about twenty minutes of Whack-A-Mole, the cup of coins was empty, and Rory looked tired. She was attacking those moles for all she was worth, taking some serious aggression out on them.

"Do you want me to get more money to keep playing?" he asked.

She didn't answer right away, and he was sure she was going to want to play some more. "No, it's okay. Now can we go on rides?"

"Do you want to spend your tickets first?" He held up a stack of tickets showing her how many they'd accrued.

She grinned, "yeah!"

He found a nearby ticket counter and fed their tickets into it. "134 tickets," he told her as the receipt printed. "Let's go shopping!"

Rory giggled, but linked her arm through his and followed him to the ticket redemption counter.

He rolled his eyes as he took in the display case full of cheesy prizes. Most of the things in their "price range" were either candy or plastic.

"Can I help you?" the guy manning the ticket counter asked as he shuffled over to where they were.

"Is there anything you want?" Rory asked, as though they were actually shopping.

"Whatever you want Sweetheart," he said, playing the doting husband part.

"Hrm..." He could hear her hum, and almost see the mental math going in her brain as she spent the tickets. "How about two of those," she pointed to the rubber cause bracelets advertising the pier.

"Color?"

"Blue," she answered confidently. "Then... two mini snickers, and 7 Tootsie Rolls, fruit punch flavored."

The guy behind the counter gathered her 'purchases' and handed her a small brown paper sack. "Here you go Miss Gilmore," he said with a blush.

"Thank you," she said politely.

"Can I get an autograph?" he asked as Tristan started to pull her away.

She smiled, "Of course. Tristan wait a second." He rolled his eyes as his wife stopped sign an autograph. He watched, slightly annoyed, as the man's innocent facade moved into more a lecherous stare.

He stepped back towards the counter to drape a proprietary arm around Rory, lowering his head to her shoulder to nuzzle her neck and whisper in her ear. "I don't like the way this guy is looking at you."

She giggled to cover her annoyance, finished signing the autograph, picked up their bag of prizes and walked away with Tristan still nuzzled into her neck. "He's not the first one to look at me like that," she said quietly.

"And I'm sure I can't be the first one that's been bothered by it," he replied equally quietly.

Rory shrugged. "Actually... I think you are."

Tristan was so stunned he actually stopped moving forward.

"What?"

"Are you serious?" he asked incredulously.

"About what?"

"Logan never had a problem with guys looking at you like that?"

She sighed, "If he did, he never mentioned it."

He shook his head.

"Come on, let's go on the ferris wheel," Rory said after an uncomfortable moment of silence. She grabbed his arm and began pulling him towards the ride.

He let her drag him for a few steps, then started walking on his own. They'd have plenty of time to talk about this later. He couldn't believe Logan wasn't bothered by strange men drooling on Rory.

When they got to the ferris wheel, Tristan paid for some tickets, and gave the ride operator a dirty look as he tried to cop a feel when checking the fastenings on the straps that held them in place.

They sat in silence in the bucket as it edged away from the ground one stop at a time to let more people in. It was half way up when Rory finally spoke. "Why do you care if some guy stares at me or tries to cop a feel?"

"You're my wife! I'm standing right next to you! It's rude!" he exclaimed.

"Huh," she said. "So it'd be okay if I acted like you just did when skanky girls try to get your attention and have you autograph their boobs?"

Tristan laughed. "Of course!"

"Huh."

The wheels started to turn in Tristan's head. "Wait... did Logan..."

Rory held up her hand to stop him, "Not gonna talk about it. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Can I punch him next time we see him?" he asked seriously.

She sighed. "Why do you even care? It's not like you even like me," she reminded him in a low voice.

"First, Logan was supposed to love you, not just like you. Second, regardless of whether I like you or not, when we're together in public as a couple, you at least deserve my respect. And letting skanks shove their boobs in my face is not respectful of my relationship with you."

"Good to know," she said, then focused her gaze out on the bay.

Tristan put his arm along the back of the seat, and let it drape over Rory's shoulder. After a minute or so, he tapped her shoulder. "Any chance we can make out up here?" He raised an eyebrow at her to get her to crack a smile and lighten the mood.

She snuggled into him, to keep up the happily married image. "Not a chance."

He chuckled and let himself get lost in his own thoughts.

"Hey Tristan."

"Yeah Rory?"

"Why aren't we moving?"

"They're letting more people on," he reminded her.

"They've been letting more people into one bucket for the last 10 minutes?" she said suspiciously.

He looked over his side of the bucket, and she looked over her side, to find that there were people swarming around the base of the ride as well as the operator's stand.

"I think we're stuck."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, it's been a while. Yes I'm very sorry. New job is keeping me super busy. But I did a little bit of beta work today on a Gilmore Girls story, and it helped my muse find its way back, if only for a little bit. Hopefully Rory and Tristan won't be stuck at the top of the ferris wheel for too long.<strong>

**Reviews inspire the muse, so please read and review! (Even if you hated it, I want hear about it!)**

**Thanks for reading.**

**S**


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: STOP! Before you read this chapter, make sure you read Chapter 21. It used to be an Author's Note, but I replaced the note with a chapter a little while ago, not knowing no one would be notified of this. **

"Stuck?" Rory asked hesitantly.

"Seems like," Tristan replied. "That's not a problem for you is it?" He began to shift back and forth in his seat making the bucket rock.

She grasped his arm. "Tristan, knock it off!"

"You afraid?"

"No!" she told him emphatically.

He grinned at her and resumed rocking the bucket.

"Okay, fine, you win! I'm not usually afraid, but with the machine already broken, I'm feeling a little leery."

Tristan stopped, and relaxed back into his seat. "I can respect that. So, since we're going to be here for a bit, are you sure you don't want to make out?" She shook her head no. "Well then, what do you want to do?"

Rory thought about it for a few moments as she took the time to take in the view. "We could always just talk."

"About what?" he asked.

She shrugged. "How about those local sports teams?"

He chuckled lightly, "Well I do love those local sports teams." They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Tristan began to idly twist Rory's hair around his fingers. "Why did you cut your hair?"

"You don't like it?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just curious about why you changed it. You've had long hair since Molly's World."

"I just got tired of it," she told him quickly.

He sighed. "Don't lie. If you don't want to talk about it, just say so."

She looked at him. "I'm not lying." He raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to argue. "Okay fine, I don't know why I lied. Logan liked it long. When we broke up..." she trailed off.

"Got it."

"Do guys ever do crazy things like that?" Rory asked curiously as she looked up at him. She knew girls did drastic things when they got dumped, but she'd always wondered if boys did.

It was Tristan's turn to shrug. "Maybe. I don't know. I've never needed someone else as a reason to do something crazy or drastic." He continued to twirl her hair around his fingers.

"Why are you playing with my hair?"

"Does it bother you?" He stopped twirling the hair.

She shook her head. "Just curious."

"So are you ready to tell me why you were crying the other day?" he asked.

Rory tensed up. "What are you talking about?"

"In the diner in Stars Hollow. We kissed, you cried, you told me you'd tell me later," Tristan reminded her.

She looked around nervously. Glancing over the edges of the bucket to see the people close to her, wondering if they were close enough to hear anything. The girls in the bucket in front of them were giggling tweens, too busy texting and squealing to notice anything. The couple in the bucket behind them was busy making out. Rory sighed, and looked up at Tristan. "Wanna make out?" she suggested hopefully.

He laughed. "Wow you really don't want to talk about it do you?" She furrowed her brow and shook her head. "Sorry Molly. You turned me down twice, that offer's off the table now."

"It's nothing."

"Rory." Tristan said firmly. "Please just tell me. Did I hurt you?"

She sighed and looked out at the water, resigning herself to answering his question. "After my mom died, my dad got really protective," she started. "When I got to be a teenager I wasn't really allowed to do anything but work or study. And because all I did was work and study, I didn't have a lot of friends, and I didn't get to date."

"Wait a minute," he interrupted. "I remember seeing pictures of you on dates in the teen magazines."

Rory laughed a slightly bitter laugh. "Those were just for show. If people were interested in me, they'd be interested in the show."

"And I thought my stage mom was bad."

"My dad wasn't..." she paused trying to find the right words, "he just wanted what was best for me." Her eyes welled up with tears. "The Hollywood stuff was my mom's thing. He was trying to do what he thought she would do."

"I'm sorry," Tristan said quietly. He began lightly rubbing her shoulder to soothe her.

"Anyhow," she wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, "Since all I did was work and study, I was every bit as naive as Molly."

"So Molly's first kiss..." he said, knowing what was coming.

"Was my first kiss," she finished.

"And the memory made you cry?" he asked. "Was it bad?"

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head and stared down at his hand. "I... things were starting to get really bad for me in that last season." She already knew his big secret, she should understand.

Rory reached out and put her hand over his. "Do you want to know?" she asked, meeting his eyes.

Tristan nodded.

"Well, to start, you were an hour late. You'd been smoking, a lot. And drinking. It made my eyes burn just to be that close to you."

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"That's not the worst part."

He groaned and hung his head.

"Are you sure you want to hear?"

"MIght as well get it all out there."

"Okay, I'll do it quick. Like a bandaid."

"Thanks," he said wryly.

She took a deep breath, prepared to spit the rest of it out all in one breath. "On the first take you rammed your tongue into my mouth and asked if it was just what I always hoped it would be. Then proceeded to screw up for another 27 takes. We spent hours trying to get that stupid kiss right." She paused, thinking about stopping there, but Tristan deserved the truth. "When we kissed in the diner, that was the kiss that should have been Chad and Molly's first kiss. That was the kiss that I wanted for my first kiss. That's what made me cry."

She looked up and met his gaze. He held it for a moment, then looked away. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something, then closed it again. This happened a couple more times before he finally said, "I don't know what to say."

Rory shrugged. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. I don't really see the point in dredging up the past. It's not like there's anything that can be done to change it."

Tristan nodded, taking in her words, but was too caught up in his own thoughts to to really process anything. He removed his arm from her shoulder and folded his arms stiffly across his chest. No wonder she was hesitant when he went to touch her. He'd all but attacked her face, because he hated her. And in hindsight, he could finally recognize that the reason he hated her was because he was jealous of her. She had the caring parent who went to bat for her, when his own only cared about how much money he could make for them. "I was jealous," he said quietly. "That's why I hated you so much."

"Jealous? Of me?"

"Yeah."

"But why?" she asked, honestly confused. "Every second of my life was controlled by someone else."

"At least you had someone in your life that cared enough to control it."

She shook her head. "I was jealous of you too you know."

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

Rory nodded.

"But why?"

"Because you had the freedom I always wanted. You lived on your own, you made your own decisions, and above all, you had friends. People always wanted to hang out with you."

"Yeah," he scoffed, "because of who I was."

"I disagree," she said softly. "I had friends because of who I was. Those kids that showed up to my birthday parties year after year, only to meet my famous co-stars and see where I lived. Most of them didn't ever speak a single word to me, not even Happy Birthday at my own party! You, people wanted to hang out with you because you were cool. I wanted to have that so badly."

Tristan sighed. "You had Lane and Marty. I didn't have any real friends. I had "good time" friends. They were only there for the good time, as soon as it was over, they were gone. I would have rather had two honest friends, than all of the so-called friends I had. Truth be told, I don't think I've seen any of those people since the show got cancelled."

Rory wasn't totally surprised at this. But she was pretty sure the end of the relationships had more to do with the drugs, and less to do with the show being cancelled, but she just kept her mouth shut. "What about now?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged. "I have friends."

"I didn't think you didn't."

"I think I just prefer to have friends that aren't in the spot light," he admitted. "Real friends, that don't want anything from me."

Rory smiled. "All people want something from other people, that's the basis of any relationship."

Tristan scowled. "Fine, people that don't want anything more from me, than just my company."

"And such delightful company it is," she snarked. She was trying to bring back their sharp cutting banter. She wasn't entirely sure she liked this vulnerable Tristan. He was too hard to hate.

"Because your company is ALWAYS delightful," he drawled sarcastically.

That was better. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "So how long do you think we'll be stuck up here?"

He looked over the side of the bucket and saw several men in coveralls working on the machinery. "Dunno. They're working on it though."

They lapsed into silence, and Rory took in her surroundings again. It really was a beautiful view from where they were. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine her self there in in a happier situation. She pictured herself stuck in the same bucket with Logan, but no matter how hard she tried, his face kept shifting into Tristan's. Was it because she was finally over Logan? Or was it merely because she couldn't come up with a conceivable reason that they would ever be on a ferris wheel?

"What are you thinking about?" Tristan asked quietly. Rory arched a quizzical brow at him, but didn't answer. "Come on, I know you're thinking about something. I can practically see the wheels turning in your mind."

"There's a fantastic view from up here," she finally said.

"Imagining being up here under better circumstances?"

"You too?" she asked in response.

Tristan shrugged, and turned away from her slightly, taking in the view on the other side. She was right, it was a nice view, but instead of imagining himself enjoying the view with someone else, he was rehashing their earlier conversation. She was jealous of him? He couldn't believe that anyone could possibly jealous of him. She was a major star. She pulled down at least 10 million a picture. Even at the height of his fame, he didn't garner anywhere near that. Granted she was jealous of him when they were kids, she wasn't jealous of him anymore, but still.

He didn't know how long he was lost in thought, but the machine rumbling below was the only thing that brought them back together.

"We're moving!" Rory exclaimed.

"Finally!" Tristan looked at his watch, then down at the ground. They hadn't been stuck for too long, 30 minutes tops, but it was long enough to draw an audience, including a video camera or two. "Ugh," he moaned quietly as he shifted in the seat.

"What?" Rory asked with concern. "Corn dogs not agreeing with you?"

"There are cameras at the bottom now," he said without much emotion.

She frowned slightly, but leaned into him, making it so he had to put his arm around her shoulder again. "Showtime," she murmured in his ear, then she leaned in and kissed him, working her way down his jawline.

"I thought you didn't want to make out with me," he breathed, as he thrust his hands into her hair and brushed his lips across her cheek.

She sighed and ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders to pull him close. "This what people expect newlyweds to do on ferris wheels." Their lips met, and she gave herself up to his kiss. While it was her intent to merely put on a show, somehow, when his lips met hers, she lost sight of what she was supposed to do.

Because unloading the ferris wheel was a slow process, Tristan was actually startled when their bucket came to a halt and someone unlatched the bar in front of him. He and Rory jerked apart. He smiled a contented smile and took in Rory's appearance. Her hair was mussed from having his hands in it, and any lipstick she was wearing had disappeared. Her lips were slightly puffy, and her face flushed tomato red at being caught.

"Rory! Tristan!" Reporters called their names trying to get attention. Tristan ignored them and helped Rory out of the bucket, taking up their purchases in one hand, and once again wrapping his other arm around Rory. She wrapped her arm around his back and snuggled into his side.

"Tristan! Rory!" The shouts came again, and the pair finally looked up to acknowledge the reporters. "Are you okay?"

"It's a ferris wheel," Tristan replied dryly, "Why wouldn't we be okay?"

"Were you worried about being stuck up there?" someone else called out.

Rory blushed again, "We were stuck up there?" She hugged Tristan a little closer. "Guess I missed that part."

Tristan chuckled and kissed the top of his wife's head. "Are you ready to head home Mol?"

"Sure thing Chad," she answered just loud enough for the reporters to catch their terms of endearment.

Reporters called after them, but they just wandered off towards the parking lot lost in their own bliss.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

It didn't take long for the news of the broken down ferris wheel to hit the gossip sites. Before they'd even gotten back to the house, Marty had texted Rory to find out if she was alright, and Micah had sent her a link to a TMZ style site that contained the story.

_Gilmore and DuGrey trapped at the Pier?_ read the headline. There was a picture of them kissing as well as one of Tristan helping Rory out of the ride. Rory read the article aloud. "Earlier today at the amusement park at the pier, the popular ferris wheel attraction had a minor malfunction, causing riders to be stranded, suspended in midair for more than 30 minutes. While park officials confirm that no one was hurt, several people were traumatized by being trapped for an unknown amount of time. Among those in the ferris wheel were movie star Rory Gilmore and her new husband - and former costar - Tristan DuGrey. However, as you can see by the picture above, the newlyweds made good use of the time, and when asked whether they were worried about being stuck on the ride, neither appeared to notice that the ride had even stopped. Based on what this reporter saw, these newlyweds are doing just fine."

"Well that helps take some of the sting out of this morning's piece," Tristan said.

Rory nodded. "But we should still make an appearance of some sort tonight. Dinner or a club. What do you think?"

He thought about it for a moment, "We're newlyweds, we should be in that place where we hardly want to get out of bed."

"In the real world maybe, but here in La La Land unless we go on honeymoon, we should be out in public."

"I thought you wanted a little less time in the public eye," he reminded her. "I mean, look how well it turned out with Logan."

Rory sucked in her breath in an involuntary wince. "Low blow."

"Look, I know that ultimately it's your call. But..." he trailed off. He wasn't sure why he was objecting to this. Part of the reason he'd agreed to this ridiculous farce was to rebuild he reputation, and that couldn't happen if they weren't seen in public together. But the part of him that objected was enjoying getting to know Rory as a person, and that only happened in small fragments when they were alone. "I think we'd be more believable if it seemed like we couldn't drag ourselves out of bed."

They drove in silence for a while, and Tristan assumed Rory was mulling over what he had to say, but he couldn't tell for sure, she was staring out the window.

"Okay, so how about..." she started, but his phone rang and interrupted her.

The caller ID flashed in the display on the console of the car. Danica Marin. "Aren't you going to answer that?" Rory asked after the phone rang a second time.

"It's probably best that I don't answer that now," Tristan said.

"It's fine Tristan. I know you have exes." The phone continued to ring.

He shook his head,"You're not supposed to use your cell phone while you're driving."

The voicemail picked up before Rory could continue the argument. "That only applies to holding the phone, NOT speaker phone," she said even though it no longer mattered.

"Next time I guess," Tristan said with a smug smile.

The phone rang again. Danica Marin popped up on the caller ID again. It was Rory's turn for a smug smile. "Looks like you're going to get your chance."

He sighed and hit the answer button. "Hello?"

"Hi Tristan!" the voice on the other of the cooed.

"Hey Danica, what's going on?"

"I'm just calling to wish you congratulations on your marriage," she said, though Rory could detect some bitterness in the woman's voice.

"Thanks, we're very happy," he said.

"Yes we are!" Rory added.

"Oh my God! I'm on speaker? TRISTAN!" Danica yelled. Tristan gave Rory a very dirty look. She just smiled back at him.

"Yeah, we're in the car," Tristan explained, trying to keep his tone light. "I wouldn't have answered, except you called twice in a row, so I figured it was really important." He hoped shifting the blame back on her would quiet some of her anger. "Did you need anything else?"

"Tristan! Be nice!" Rory chided. _I'm going to get you!_ he mouthed back at her.

"Hi Miss Gilmore, I just wanted to find out if Tristan found my blue sweater? I left it at his place a couple of weeks ago."

Despite having never met the woman, nor having ever heard her voice before this phone call, Rory could hear in the instigating tone in her voice.

"The ice blue one with navy piping?" Rory asked.

"No," Danica replied hesitantly.

"The cobalt blue one with crystal beading?" Rory asked again. _What are you doing?_ Tristan mouthed.

"Uhhhm, no," Danica answered.

"Apparently lots of girls left behind blue sweaters Danica, you'll have to be a little more specific," Rory said bitchily.

Danica sighed, "You know, it's just not that important."

"Okay then, have a good night," Tristan said. He clicked the disconnect button before either woman could say anymore. "What was that about?" he asked Rory angrily.

"She was the one trying to cause trouble!" Rory reminded him.

"You're the one that made me answer the phone."

"You can bet if she didn't know I was listening that 'sweater' would never have come up. In fact, I bet that she's never actually left a sweater at your house."

He thought about it for a moment. "You're probably right. So why play into her notion?"

Rory shrugged. "I didn't want to give her the power she was looking for. She wanted me to know she'd seen you within the last few weeks. If that was the case, I didn't want her to think she was the only one."

"So you make me look like a complete cad?" he exclaimed, offended at the insinuation. "And that you married someone who couldn't even be faithful to you for a short courtship!"

She turned in her seat to face him. "Look, we told people it was quick, that we started as friends, and then that it was 'just right'. It would make sense that you were still seeing other people while we were friends."

He calmed a little bit, "but what about me seeing lots of women?"

"How's Danica going to look if she wants to out herself as one of the masses to the press?" Rory asked. "Especially if no one else comes forward. Besides, I didn't say the other blue sweaters had been left recently. You could have an "ex-box" that's been growing for years."

Tristan chuckled. "You're kind of devious."

She shook her head. "No. I've just had plenty of time to think about stuff like this."

He let her words sink in and they drove in silence for a few more miles. "Why would you worry about my exes?" he finally asked.

"What?" she asked, honestly confused.

"We've been really busy since this happened less than a week ago, why would worry about my exes? When would you worry about them?" he reiterated.

She stared out the window, and he knew the answer before she spoke. "It's not you, it was Logan."

The mere mention of Logan made Tristan scowl and shake his head disapprovingly.

"He didn't cheat," she started, defending Logan out of habit. "At least not to my knowledge. But given the quickness of his relationship with Fallon, I got lots of questions about whether he cheated or not. I spent lots of time trying to figure out how we could go from in love to him being engaged to someone else. I mean, it's not like we broke up because I didn't love him any more." A tear slid down her cheek and she scrubbed at it angrily. "Dammit, I am tired of crying over Logan Huntzberger!"

"That makes two of us!" Tristan said.

"You're tired of crying over Logan?" she asked with a watery laugh.

"No, but I'm sure as hell tired of having my wife cry over him," he grumbled.

'It's just..." she sniffed. "Why didn't he want to marry me?"

Tristan inhaled deeply and sighed. "He's an idiot Rory, that's why." She looked at him, but he continued. "Only an idiot would let a smart, successful, beautiful woman slip through his grasp, then cling on Fallon McIntyre. She's not even the next best thing. I've seen her interviews, she's an got the IQ of toast. Sure she's pretty, but she's not nearly as beautiful as you are. My guess is that his relationship with Fallon is actually just a stunt to try and get you back."

Rory snorted. "He wants to get me back by proposing to someone else?"

"Like I said before, he's an idiot."

The words were hardly out of Tristan's mouth when Rory's phone began to ring. Logan Huntzberger popped up in the caller ID. Tristan snatched the phone from Rory before she could send the call straight to voicemail.

"Tristan! I don't want to talk to him."

"Turnabout is fair play, Wifey," he reminded her sarcastically, then hit the answer button.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So there you have it, a next chapter that's been in the works since October. I'm hoping that since I left myself at a cliffhanger, I'll feel the urge to write the next chapter.<strong>

**If anyone's still reading, I'd love your insights and feed back!**

**As usual, I don't own anything!**

**S**


	23. Chapter 23

Tristan smiled as Rory scowled at him. She was refusing to acknowledge the open phone line.

"Hello? Ace?" Logan's voice came from the speaker of the phone Tristan was holding up in the middle of the car.

She sighed. "Hey Logan, what's going on?"

"I just heard the news! Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"What news?"

Tristan rolled his eyes and she gave him another dirty look.

"That you were stuck on a ferris wheel," Logan replied, as though the answer was obvious.

"I was stuck on a ferris wheel?" she repeated. Tristan made a lewd gesture and Rory smacked at him and tried not to laugh.

"Rory! How could you not know if you were stuck on a ferris wheel?" The annoyance was becoming clearer in Logan's tone.

She smiled, proud of her cleverness. "I was... distracted."

The car was silent as Logan tried to process the information. "Rory!" His tone indicated that he was scandalized by her insinuation. Tristan couldn't help but grin.

"Making out with my incredibly sexy husband is not a crime, Logan," she said, letting some of her own annoyance come out in her voice.

"I... I know that! I'm just surprised you'd even go on a ferris wheel," Logan tried to cover his flustered state.

Rory snorted, "and why's that?"

He sighed. "Remember the London Eye?" He paused for her to respond, but when she didn't he started again, "You hated that and swore you'd never go on anything like it again!"

"I hated the situation," she reminded him. "First, you picked one of the glass bottomed capsules, and second we were trapped in there with a dozen other people for 3 HOURS!"

Tristan finally lost his self control and chuckled at his wife's frustration.

"Am I on speaker?" Logan asked irritably.

"Hi Logan," Tristan replied coolly. "I thought I told you to stop calling my wife."

"I can call Rory if I want to," Logan replied. "She still answers my calls," he added smugly.

"I told you you shouldn't have answered the phone," Rory told Tristan just loudly enough for Logan to hear.

"Sorry Molly. You were right," Tristan said contritely.

"Is there anything else you need Logan?" Rory asked.

Again, there was silence.

"Seriously Logan, stop calling my wife," Tristan expressed firmly.

"Or what?" Logan challenged.

"I'll start calling your fiancée."

Rory started to giggle, and Logan started to get indignant. "Goodbye Logan," Tristan said as he clicked the End Call button.

As soon as the call had been disconnected he allowed himself to laugh, and Rory's giggle became a full on laugh.

"I really wish you wouldn't talk to him," Tristan started.

"Like I just said, you're the one that wanted to answer the phone call. I'm perfectly content to send him to voicemail."

_HOMH - HOMH - HOMH_

Rory took her phone back from Tristan and put it in her purse. She was confused and she didn't really like to be confused. First, she was curious as to why Logan kept calling her. Prior to her birthday, she hadn't heard from him since they broke up. She told him she wanted to get married someday, he told her he didn't, she packed her bags, and he waved goodbye. He didn't try to convince her to stay, and once she left he didn't try to convince her to come back. So what changed? Second, she was confused about Tristan. He hated her, she knew that, and he'd straight up admitted it, yet somehow, he was more considerate of her in their fake marriage than Logan was during their entire relationship. He seemed almost possessive of her. While on principle, she objected to being considered a possession, in practice, it was nice to have him care.

"Are you okay over there?" Tristan asked, interrupting her train of thought.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"So are we going out tonight?"

She shook her head again. "Nah. I think you're right. We should just stay in tonight."

Tristan smiled. "Cool. What do you want to do?" His voice dropped into that deep sexy timbre, and he suggestively raised an eyebrow at her.

"Not that!" she exclaimed. "I liked the den last night, maybe we can actually watch more than three minutes of a movie?"

"What movie?"

"We've got all night, we'll each pick one," she told him decisively.

He nodded. "Sounds good. What about for the rest of the afternoon? It's only 2:00."

She thought about it for a minute. "Well, I've got scripts to read and calls to make. That'll probably take a couple of hours. You?"

"Same," he said quickly.

"Really?"

He gave her a dirty look that she didn't quite understand. "Why would I lie about that?"

Rory shrugged, "then why give me a dirty look?"

"I understand that I'm not a super star like the great Rory Gilmore, but that doesn't mean I don't have a life! I have friends, and believe it or not, I do still get scripts."

She held up her hands in surrender. "I did NOT mean to insult you. I was just surprised by your very quick response."

"Sorry." Tristan actually sounded like he meant it.

The silence in the car became thick and awkward. "You know, it's times like this that I realize just how much Hollywood distorts our perception of the world," Rory started quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, first you have to promise not to get mad at me for the way this explanation comes out, it's just my interpretation of the facts I have."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine I promise."

"You obviously have issues with not being 'famous enough'" she used finger quotes to emphasize the important part.

"I don't-" he started to interrupt, but she held up a finger to stop him.

"But in the grand scheme of things, maybe one half of one percent of the population of the world is considered famous. You may think you're a one hit wonder, but at least you had a hit."

"Hrm."

She was quiet while she watched him consider what she'd said. "I really enjoy what I do," she started again, "but at least once a day I consider giving it all up and running away from my life. Sometimes, I wish our roles were reversed: you could be the mega star, and I could just enjoy my life on my own terms."

The silence in the car resumed. After about five minutes, the car slowed to turn on to a residential street and Rory realized they were almost back to the house. Good. She could escape his scrutiny for just a little while.

Tristan stopped the car to wait for the gate to open, and Rory put on a big smile in case there were any photographers still looming. She didn't see any extra cars, but she wouldn't put it past someone to hide in the bushes.

Once the gate was open, Tristan pulled into the driveway, and then into the garage. He still hadn't said a word.

As soon as the garage door started to shut, Rory got out of the car, and practically raced into the house. She was half way up the stairs before she heard his voice again.

"You're not wrong," he said in a low voice, just loud enough to catch her attention. She turned and looked at him, but didn't respond. "I am more famous than most of the world. But when you grow up in house that uses love as a reward for success, it's easy to lose perspective."

Her hand shot to her mouth to cover the shock of his admission. "Oh Tristan," she breathed.

His expression steeled and he shrugged. "It is what it is." He moved quickly towards the side door and left the house while Rory was still frozen on the stairs.

_HOMH - HOMH - HOMH_

He slammed the door, then kicked at the potted plant right outside the door. He couldn't believe he'd let her goad him. He started pacing not knowing how to deal with his energy. Usually something like this would send him on a run, but he'd already run once today, and a trip out in public while he was angry would not help their situation, even if the person he was angry with was himself.

He reached for his cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it before finally settling into one of the chairs.

Tristan leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure. He wanted to be mad at Rory, but this wasn't something she'd done intentionally. She was right, he was sensitive about being less than a superstar, and given his past behavior, and her past experiences, she had no reason to think it was for any other reason than an ego trip.

Just what he needed, another reason to hate his parents, and a reason to hate Logan.

He shook his head at the thought. Logan was going to be problem. Having spent most of his life in the industry, he knew exactly how Logan's mind worked. He was one of those guys that couldn't stand to lose, and while he professed his love for Fallon, Rory was a much bigger prize.

Tristan took one final drag of his cigarette and scrubbed it out on the ground next to him. he was contemplating lighting another one when his phone buzzed. Assuming it was Rory he didn't bother to open his eyes and look at the caller ID before answering. "Yes dear?"

"Hey Asshole," came an angry voice.

"Paris. Hi," he said calmly.

"You married Rory Gilmore? What the fuck Tristan? You hate her, she hates you. What the hell happened in Atlantic City?" She was yelling into her phone, he hoped she was alone.

"Nostalgia overtook us, and we just couldn't resist."

"Dammit Tristan!" she continued yelling. "I gave you the information to help a friend. Had I known you were going to do something like this, I would never have said a word. Rory's my friend too, and when she finds out about this, she's going kick my ass!"

"Hold it right there, Paris. I may be an ass, and I may like to watch Rory suffer, but do you really think I'm the kind of guy that likes to make himself suffer?"

She sputtered a bit, hopefully realizing that his argument was rational. "No," she finally admitted.

"Do you really want to know what's going on?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"If you know the truth, you're going to have to be able to tell the lie."

She pondered that for a moment, and Tristan got up and began pacing. "And if I don't know the truth?"

He smiled, "Then you can tell the press what I told you."

"That nostalgia overtook you, and you just couldn't resist?" she repeated.

"Exactly." He lit another cigarette while he waited for her to think over her options. "Do you want to call me back later?" he asked as her silence went into its third full minute.

"I want to know the truth," she said finally. "First though, did you tell Rory how you ended up in Atlantic City?"

Tristan sighed, "Yep."

"TRISTAN!" she yelled again.

"Look, I didn't tell her the whole thing, just that you invited me. She's not really mad at you. If you don't stop yelling at me though, I will tell her the whole thing, and I will not tell you ANYTHING!" By the time he finished his sentence he was close to yelling himself, and given the amount of paparazzi hanging around his house, yelling would be a very bad idea.

"Fine. I'm sorry. Would you please tell me what happened?"

"Since you asked so nicely, sure. We don't really know what happened," he started.

"Tristan!" she exclaimed exasperatedly.

He exhaled sharply, "Paris, if you cut me off again I will hang up on you."

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"We were drugged. We woke up married, and neither of us remember how we got there."

Paris chuckled, "Boy, for two smart people, you two sure are dumb. Why didn't you just get an annulment?"

Tristan paused here, he could completely throw Rory under the bus with her friend, and that idea was not without appeal.

"Hello?" Paris said impatiently. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

"And?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're infuriating Geller?"

She laughed, "All the fucking time. Now I know Rory's not an idiot, so why are you two staying married?"

Obviously she wasn't going to drop the subject. Tristan could let Rory deal with her, but he was sure he'd have to answer the questions eventually. "You know the issues Rory's been having in the tabloids lately. If we got an annulment, she'd be shredded in the media," he spoke quietly just in case there were ears nearby.

"That's true. It makes sense for her," Paris responded sympathetically, "but why on earth did you agree?"

He sighed, "If I told you it was out of the kindness of my heart, would you believe me?" Again, Paris hooted with laughter. "Yeah, I didn't think so. It's..." He wouldn't tell her about the money, that was no ones business but his. "It's... a way to try and rehabilitate my image."

He waited for more laughter from Paris, but the phone line remained quiet.

"That makes sense," Paris finally said. "But if you hurt my friend by using her to get ahead in your own life, I will hunt you down and beat the crap out of you."

He chuckled at the thought of Paris trying to hurt him.

"I'm serious Tristan," she spoke again. "I know krav maga."

"What about me? Aren't I your friend as well?" he asked, fed up with another person choosing Rory over him.

Now it was Paris' turn to sigh. "Of course you're my friend. But you've been able to take care of yourself for years. Sometimes, I swear Rory is still just as naive as she was when she starting playing Molly Taylor all of those years ago."

"She's a lot more capable than you give her credit for," Tristan responded coolly. He wasn't sure why he was defending Rory to Paris, he was pretty sure he agreed with the blonde's assessment.

"So what do I tell the press if they ask me?"

"Tell them you're surprised but happy for us. Simplicity is best."

"I can do that," Paris told him. "But I'm going to come for a visit soon, just to make sure Rory is doing okay."

Tristan couldn't control his frustrated growl. "Fine Paris. Whatever you want." He clicked the end call button, and took the last drag of the cigarette that had all but burned itself out in his hand.

_HOMH - HOMH - HOMH_

Rory watched Tristan talk on the phone from the window of his bedroom. She could tell that he wasn't happy because he would gesture with is hands and a scowl seemed to be permanently affixed to his face. She'd gone into his room instead of hers so she could shower away the pier, but instead found herself staring out the window at Tristan instead.

She was pretty sure he hadn't meant to tell what he had. But now that she knew, it explained so much about him. The next question was what would she do with this new information. Nobody deserved to be continually subjected to conditional love, it was just cruel.

She watched as he disconnected the call, then found herself heading into her own bedroom. The shower could wait, she just needed to think.

When she entered the room, she found that Micah had hauled all of her shoes up stairs, and so there were rows and rows of shoe boxes stacked against the wall. Each one neatly labeled with a photograph of the contents. There was also box labeled 'Scripts' sitting next to the dressing table.

That's what she should be doing, reading scripts. Trying to find some small project to fill the gap that the postponement had left. She hefted the box onto the bed and began sifting through them, reading titles just to find a project that jumped out at her. Eventually she would read them all, and probably turn all of them down, but now she was just looking for anything that would catch her attention, even if only for the afternoon. As she pulled out the last script, a name finally jumped out at her _Wake Me Up Before You Go. _Her mother had loved Wham! so the song title jumped out at her, and that was enough to go on for now.

Her agent had put a Post-It on it saying that the studio wanted her to read for the main character, Rachel Anderson. She began to read the script.

A sharp knocking on the door startled her. She looked over at the clock and realized she'd been reading for the last 90 minutes.

"Yes?" she called out.

Tristan opened the door and stepped into her space. "Wow, you've got so many clothes there's hardly more than a path to the bed!"

"I know, it's awful," she admitted. "What's going on?"

He stood there for a minute before speaking. "About earlier..." he started, and she set down her script to give him her full attention. "I'm sorry if I snapped at you. I... I shouldn't have said what I said." He turned around and left the door before she could respond.

"Tristan!" she called after him. "Wait!" She uncrossed her legs and got off the bed to follow him. Unfortunately she only made it about three steps before she collapsed onto the floor with a crash.

"Rory?" he shouted. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," came her muffled voice. "Just embarrassed."

He re-entered her room to find her lying on the floor, and her face turning pink. "What happened."

She blushed further. "I tried to follow you, but my legs were asleep. I didn't realize it until I was already walking"

He let out a hearty laugh and came over to help her off the floor. He scooped her up deposited her on the bed. "Does that happen to you often?"

She shrugged. "I spent 90 minutes sitting cross-legged on the bed. I usually don't spend that much time without moving. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Okay," he started to head towards the door again, leaving her alone to recover from the pins and needles feeling in her legs.

"Wait!" she said firmly. "I still wanted to say something." He turned and faced her, but didn't say anything further. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. Sometimes I forget that there are more kinds of lousy childhoods than just the kind I had. I will try to be more considerate in the future."

"You shouldn't have to worry about setting me off by expressing your opinions," he said quietly.

"You're right," she admitted, "but usually I know my audience a bit better before I go spouting off."

Now it was his turn to shrug. "It happens. So... I've got a couple more calls to make, but I'm starting to get hungry. Does dinner in an hour work?"

It was a little after 4:00, so an hour would make it a little after 5:00. 5:00 seemed kind of early for dinner to her, but her stomach was inclined to agree with Tristan. For once, she was actually hungry. "Yeah, that'll be great. I can finish the script in about an hour."

"Great." Tristan left the room and closed the door behind himself, leaving Rory in peace to finish her script.

_HOMH - HOMH - HOMH_

Tristan made his phone calls quickly. He hated talking on the phone, but he needed to confirm his call time on Friday morning, and confirm a lunch date he had scheduled for Saturday. He wandered downstairs into the den to try and choose a movie for them to watch. All the movies were on the hard drive, but there were still some actual DVDs in cases on a section of the bookshelves, as well as row after row of books that had become movies.

He was unsure of what kind of genre to pick, not knowing Rory's taste. Casablanca had gone over okay the night before, but that was a romantic movie, and he wasn't sure he wanted to continue in that direction yet. He finally settled on a movie, and went to go preheat the oven. Before he'd gotten to the kitchen, his doorbell rang.

"I got it!" Rory shouted as she thundered down the stairs. For a small woman, she sure made a lot of noise.

Tristan rushed towards the door as well, not wanting to be caught off guard by surprise guests. Rory darted in front of him and elbowed him out of her way. "I said, I got it!"

The doorbell rang again, and Tristan waited for Rory to answer the door. "Go away!" she hissed. "It's nothing bad, I promise!"

After another minute or so of staring, and the doorbell ringing a third time, Tristan finally backed down and returned to the kitchen to heat up the lasagna.

It was about two minutes later when Rory walked into the kitchen holding a medium-sized box.

"What's in the box?" Tristan asked, unable to control his curiosity.

She smiled a sly smile. "A surprise for later." She kept walking and put the box in the den. "How long until dinner is ready?" she asked as she returned to the kitchen.

"Another 20 minutes or so. Would you open a bottle of wine?"

"Sure, red or white?" she asked. "Wait, pasta. Red."

"I always prefer red," Tristan told her. "There's a Malbec over there that is supposed to be pretty good."

She browsed through the bottles before selecting the bottle he requested. There was a Rabbit opener sitting on top of the wine rack, so she opened the bottle to let it breathe for a few minutes.

"You can use the aerator if you're impatient," he said with a grin.

"I can wait."

"Okay fine, could you use the aerator for me?"

She giggled and grabbed a couple of glasses, along with the aerator. "Since I'm doing it for you, I might as well pour a glass for me too."

She took both glasses into the kitchen and climbed up on a stool to watch Tristan cook. "I didn't know you could cook," she admitted.

"I lived alone for a long time. I had to eat. But in all fairness, this isn't cooking. This is reheating."

"Still more than I can manage," Rory told him.

Rory looked so wholesome, he just had assumed she was a domestic goddess. She looked like the kind of girl who knew her way around the kitchen.

"It's a good thing you're rich then," he quipped.

She started to get defensive, then laughed instead. "Yeah I guess it is." She took a sip of her wine and smiled. "So, are we eating in here? In the dining room, or in the den?"

"Lets eat in the den, then we can watch movies."

"Okay, I'm going to go change then."

He checked out her outfit, which was the same shirt and skirt combo she'd worn to the pier that morning. "Why? You look fine. You don't need to dress for dinner."

"I'm going to go put on something more comfortable," she said.

He took a sip of his own wine and watched her as she walked up the stairs.

By the time she'd returned, the lasagna was done reheating, and Tristan had put some garlic bread in a bowl, and made salads for them as well.

She walked back into the kitchen in a tee shirt and boxer shorts. "Do you want me to take anything in to the den?"

"You could grab the rest of the bottle of wine," he said. Then, before he could help himself "Please tell me you're not wearing Huntzberger's boxer shorts to dinner with me?" He wasn't entirely sure why the thought of that upset him, but it did.

Rory blushed. "No," she stammered. "These weren't Logan's."

"Were they some other guys?" he asked, not sure he would care as much since they weren't Logan's.

"I'll go change," she said quickly, then ran back upstairs.

_HOMH - HOMH - HOMH_

She shut the door to her room and leaned against it. She couldn't believe she'd been so careless. Or really, she couldn't believe that Tristan had cared. She'd been wearing the pair of flannel boxers she'd stolen from Dean, her boyfriend before Logan, as pajama bottoms for years. Logan had never said a word. Of course the tee-shirt she was wearing was one she'd stolen from Logan that advertised his college frat.

She pulled on her own tank top and pair of flannel pants covered in lipstick marks. Very girly.

Rory returned to the kitchen just as Tristan was taking the last load of stuff into the den. She grabbed the wine bottle and her glass from the counter and followed him.

He looked her up and down when he saw her. "Better?" she asked.

"You didn't have to change," he told her as he sat down on the couch in front of the ottoman. The lid on the ottoman had been flipped over to be a tray instead of a cushion.

"I know I didn't. It just felt like the right thing to do."

"Why?"

She hummed in thought for a moment. "If we're going to be stuck together for a year, I feel like I shouldn't do things that I know bother you. Not wearing an exes clothes is an easy thing to change. In fact, I'm kind of surprised that no one has ever called me on it before."

"Thank you," he said as he dug into his lasagna.

"You're welcome. So what are we watching?"

"I don't know, you tell me?"

"Tristan, we were each supposed to pick one!" she groaned in an exasperated voice.

He chuckled. For some reason, that man delighted in riling her up. She gave him a dirty look for good measure.

"I picked The Breakfast Club."

"How funny! I picked Sixteen Candles."

"Who knew Molly Taylor had a thing for Molly Ringwald!"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I didn't pick mine for Molly Ringwald! And you picked a Molly Ringwald movie too."

He shook his head to disagree. "I picked out a classic, that just happens to have Molly Ringwald in it."

She sighed in resignation. "Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

Tristan nodded, "One, two, three!"

Rory threw scissors to Tristan's rock.

"I win!" he exclaimed with an enthusiastic fist pump into the air.

Rory couldn't help but laugh. "So put on The Breakfast Club and let's get this movie night started."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As usual, I don't own anything. Not Gilmore Girls, not The Breakfast Club or Sixteen Candles, and not Wham!<strong>

**Coming up: Movie night, Tristan going back to work, visits with Paris and Marty, and of course, Logan who just can't leave well enough alone. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review. I just love those little messages in my inbox. **

**S**


	24. Chapter 24

"I don't remember this movie being so profane," Rory said about a third of the way through The Breakfast Club.

"You must have watched it on cable," Tristan returned.

Dinner had been consumed, and Tristan had traded his jeans and shirt for a pair of flannel pajama pants and wife beater. However, unlike Rory's pants, his were classic plaid. They were finishing the bottle of wine and for the first time since he woke up married, he was finally starting to feel relaxed.

"So which character did you want to be when you were a kid?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

She shrugged. "Come on, everybody wanted to be somebody in their favorite classics."

"You first," he told her.

"Fine, I wanted to be Claire."

"I knew little Molly Taylor had a thing for Molly Ringwald!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Hush-it!" she hissed. "My mom loved these movies. We always watched them... apparently they were taped off the TV, but still." Rory tipped her wine glass to her lips and drained the last few drops. "Now it's your turn."

Tristan groaned. "Fine. I always thought I'd be Andrew."

"Not Bender?" Rory asked curiously.

He shoved her playfully and shook his head. "I could sympathize with Andrew. We had the same dad. The one that wanted you to win at all cost."

"Huh."

"Should we open another bottle of wine?" Tristan asked after he drained the remnants of his own glass.

"Sure. More red please!"

He paused the movie and grabbed the empty wine bottle and the basket with the last few bits of garlic bread in it. "You're done with this, right?"

She nodded and he headed towards the kitchen. He dropped the breadbasket off on the counter and put the empty bottle in the recycling bin. He then began to look through the other bottles in the wine rack, trying to find a nice complimentary red.

All of the sudden he started to laugh. A week ago he would have been a sports bar, kicking back watching a game with one of his buddies and a beer. He would never have imagined himself watching 80's movies with a bottle of wine and his arch enemy.

"What's so funny?" Rory called from the den.

"Just thinking about how weird this is. Did you ever think you'd be spending a cozy night in drinking wine and watching movies with me?"

She laughed. "No! I don't know if I ever even imagined having a cozy night in with anyone though."

He made his way back into the den with the newly opened bottle of red in one hand and the aerator in the other. "Really, you and Logan never had a quiet night in?"

"Not really," she admitted. "We went to a lot of premieres and openings, and when we did stay home, we typically entertained. The only time I really remember having movie nights with Logan is when we were sick."

Tristan went to set the bottle down, and noticed that the table was covered in junk food. "What's all this?" he asked as he took it all in. There were M&Ms and marshmallow treats, pretzels and cookies, pop tarts and red vines, and a bag of caramel corn.

Rory blushed a little. "It's a movie night buffet."

"Where did you get it?"

"I had Micah bring it over."

"The box!" he exclaimed, putting two and two together. She nodded. "But why?"

Rory looked down at her hands. "It was one of my mom's things. We always had movie marathons and no movie marathon was complete without tons of junk food."

"Okay cool. When's the last time you did this?" He couldn't resist and popped a couple of M&Ms into his mouth.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Ummm..." she trailed off without answering.

"Rory?"

"Probably with Jess and Lane and my mom when I was 7," she finally said quietly.

He sat there in stunned silence while she poured herself a glass of wine, and then offered him some more as well.

"Don't go thinking you're special," she told him coldly. "I... I... Dammit." Tears started to streak down her cheeks.

Tristan set down his wine glass, and took Rory's out of her hand and set it down as well. He slid over next to her and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards his chest. "What's going on Rory?"

"This is your fault!" she said angrily through her tears as she hit his chest with her fists. "I was fine until you came along. But no, you had to come along and make me talk about this stuff I had all good and buried."

"I didn't make you talk," he reminded her.

"Yes you did!"

"How did I make you talk? I don't recall torturing you," he snapped sarcastically.

She huffed and wrapped her arms around him. "No, you didn't torture me. But you did something no one else has ever done. You asked. And then you went and told me your stuff. Damn it Tristan this is all your fault," her voice was muffled by his chest.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her. "I'm sorry?" he said tentatively.

"You should be!" She pushed herself away from him and sniffled a little. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, so he did the same.

"I thought you said Logan knew about your mom stuff," he said remembering one of their earlier conversations.

"He knows the basics. But like I said, Logan's way of dealing with me when I got into a funk was just to give me some time by myself."

"Logan's an idiot."

Rory shrugged. "He's not an idiot. Truly. He's just self-centered. And it's not even really his fault, his whole life everyone and everything has revolved around him. I didn't help change that. I was so amazed that someone like him would want to be with someone like me that I just added to it."

Tristan growled. "We need to stop talking about Logan."

"Sorry," she whispered.

He groaned again. "It's not your fault. It's just the more I learn about that douche bag, the more I want to beat the shit out of him."

"Okay. Let's just watch the movie."

Rory settled back into her spot with her wine glass in one hand and a large marshmallow treat in the other. Tristan picked up the bowl of pretzels and pushed the play button.

They didn't get too much further along in the movie before Rory sat up. "Why do you care?"

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You hate me Tristan. Why do you care about my relationship with Logan?"

He sighed. "I don't hate you Rory."

"Yes you do. It's okay."

"Fine. Think what you want to think."

"Why does it bother you?" she asked again.

"I don't know," he finally shouted. "I really don't know. I know I shouldn't care. But honestly, I'd like to think I'd be this annoyed if anyone I knew thought they deserved such a crappy relationship."

"Well I'm not in _that _crappy relationship anymore," Rory reminded him.

He scoffed at her. "No you're not, but not for lack of trying on your part. If it were up to you, you'd be planning your wedding!"

"Okay so I'm an idiot too. Did you really need proof of that? Do you really need to rub it in? You've done some pretty stupid stuff too." She furrowed her brow and took another bite of her marshmallow treat, refocusing her attention on the movie in front of her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pick a fight," he said quietly.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The Breakfast Club played on in the background, but Rory was no longer able to pay attention. She was wrapped up in her own thoughts. She couldn't understand why she was sharing all of this personal stuff with Tristan, and she couldn't understand why her relationship with Logan bothered him so much. She kept trying to figure it out. When she told him he was the first person to ever ask her about her issues with her mom, she was telling the truth. She spent years trying to play it cool and pretend she was fine so she didn't upset her family, and therefore her friends never asked her. Her past boyfriends... well, Dean was very pretty, but not very smart. He was delicious arm candy, and they had a great time together, but it was all at a very superficial level. He never met her family, and he never really asked questions.

Logan on the other hand, Logan was the person she should have shared this stuff with. Tristan was right, if she had it her way she'd be planning her wedding to Logan instead of being married to Tristan. But Logan could never do movie nights. He really only wanted to see movies if they were premieres. Specifically his premieres. And a junk food buffet was completely out of the question. In the four years they were together she maybe saw him eat more than a bite of dessert once. After which he promptly went and did100 sit-ups. Despite having morphed into an all out movie star, he still had the action star mindset where his body was his trade.

As her mind wandered trying to solve the mysteries of her life, she drank her wine and munched on her marshmallow treat, she was completely startled when Tristan reached out and touched her shoulder.

"What?" she asked with a start.

"Do you want to watch Sixteen Candles now? Or are you done for the night?"

She shook her head to clear the errant thoughts. "Yeah, Sixteen Candles would be great."

"Are you cold?"

She looked down and discovered that she was cold. Her arms were covered in goose flesh, and the little hairs were all standing upright. "Yeah I am."

He passed her the blanket she'd slept under the night before. She adjusted her position so her feet were resting on the ottoman in front of her, and pulled the blanket over her lap.

"Are you cold?" she asked in return.

He thought about it for a beat before answering, "I could be warmer."

She lifted edge of the blanket that was between them in a silent offer to share. He moved a little closer to her, and then slightly closer than that so they could both actually be covered by the blanket.

"So what is it you love about this movie?" he asked as he was scrolling through the pages of media to find it.

Rory shrugged, not really wanting to go into it. "Let's just say I have great sympathy for Samantha Baker."

He took in her statement. "Seems odd for someone who hates her birthday to sympathize with someone who's pissed that everyone forgot her birthday."

She shrugged again. "I'm an odd girl," she said finally.

Tristan pushed play and they settled in to watch the movie.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

They weren't too far into the movie when Tristan felt the weight of Rory's head land on his shoulder. Part of him wanted to wake her up, part of him wanted to push her off his shoulder, and part of him was content to just let her sleep there. He found the act of sleeping on someone to be very intimate. Much more so than sex. He was surprised Rory could sleep on him, he couldn't recall the last time he felt comfortable enough with someone to fall asleep on them.

In the end he just let her sleep, and he continued to watch the movie he hadn't seen in years, trying to figure out why Rory would sympathize with Samantha Baker. He fell asleep before he found his answer.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

He woke up to find the den dark, Rory was still sleeping, though she'd changed positions. She'd put her feet up on the couch and slid down to use his lap as a pillow. He had slumped over and was using her shoulder as a head rest. He glanced at his watch to find that it was only 10:30. Tristan pushed himself into a sitting position and gently shook Rory's shoulder.

"You slept through your movie," he said softly.

"Huh?" she mumbled sleepily, slowly stretching out her limbs. "Wha time isit?" Her voice was slurred in her sleep.

"It's only 10:30. Do you want to go upstairs and go back to sleep in your bed?" he asked.

She gingerly sat up and rubbed at her eyes. "I can't believe I missed Sixteen Candles!"

"I fell asleep too," he admitted. "But I made it longer than you did."

Rory groaned, "I feel so old! I'm 30 for less than a week, and already staying up past 10 is an impossibility."

Tristan chuckled as he twisted around trying to relieve some of the tension in his back and neck from sleeping in such an odd position. "I'm sure it's only because of the stress of our lives right now. I bet if we didn't have to deal with the press and the ferris wheel-"

"And our exes," Rory interjeted.

"we'd still be raring to go," he continued.

"I suppose."

He stretched again. "So what do you want to do?"

This time it was her turn to stretch and twist. Finally she answered, "I think I'm too awake to go upstairs and go back to sleep. Maybe I'll catch up on some reading." She pushed herself to her feet. "I think I'll make some coffee, you want some?"

He pondered her offer for a moment, trying to determine what he wanted to do. "I'd prefer a cup of tea, but if you're offering coffee, I'll take it."

She nodded, and headed for the kitchen, leaving Tristan to clean up the movie marathon junk food picnic.

He gathered all of the items and put them back into their containers, then carried them all to the kitchen. He startled Rory when he dropped the lot of them on the counter. She appeared to be intently focused on the brewing coffee that was slowly dripping into the carafe.

She spun around to see what had caused the noise. "Oh, you didn't have to clean that up. I was going to do it once the coffee had been brewed."

"No problem," Tristan said. "How about you put these in the pantry while I go collect the dishes and the wine glasses?"

"Can do." She grabbed the bag of M&Ms and headed towards the pantry. He watched for a moment as she put the items away one at a time. "Will Amanda give you a bad time about having junk food in the house?"

He snorted, "Why would she care?"

Rory shrugged. "She makes most of your meals, these items probably aren't on your diet plan."

"You think I need a diet plan?" he asked.

"Of course not. What I mean was I don't think these items are on _anyone's _diet plan."

He chuckled in response. "If anything, she'll be surprised to see something she didn't buy in the pantry."

Silence resumed, only broken by the slow even drips of coffee. Rory had finished putting the junk food in the pantry before Tristan spoke again.

"How do you keep your figure if you eat like this?" he asked, honestly curious. She opened her mouth to reply, and he held his hand up to cut her off. "I know right now you need the weight, because you've been on the break up diet for the past couple months, but do you normally eat like this? In the last week you've had an Italian feast, an ice cream sundae bar, chocolate chip waffles, corn dogs, and now a junk food picnic. If we keep up at this rate _I am _going to need a diet plan!"

She shrugged. "What's normal? Did I eat like this with Logan? No."

"Why not?"

"Aside from the fact that I'd weigh too much for my chosen profession if I did?"

"Come on Rory, you're not an idiot, I know you know about moderation." He wasn't in the mood to play games any more.

"Why does it matter?"

Tristan let out a deep sigh, "I'm just trying to figure you out. Get to know the real Rory."

"I thought you had me pegged years ago," she snapped snidely.

As he was unsure of what caused her to snap, he just stared at her. Unblinking. Waiting for a real response.

"A wedding ring doesn't give you the right to try and psycho-analyze me," she said finally.

"Jesus Rory. You make it sound so clinical. We're stuck together for a year, I thought it would be easier if we knew more about each other than just the tabloid fodder that got us in this mess."

It was her turn to sigh. "You're right."

He waited for her to continue, but instead she poured herself a cup of coffee and took it with her, leaving him standing alone in the kitchen.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory entered her bedroom and shut the door firmly behind herself. She set the coffee cup down on the nightstand and collapsed onto the bed. She didn't know what was going on, but she didn't like it one bit.

Who did he think he was, trying to get to know her?

Yes, he was probably right that the next year would go more smoothly if they knew each other, and became friends. But why did he have to be so inquisitive? And why did he have to notice her reactions to everything?

She shook her head, trying to literally shake off her thoughts, and picked up her phone.

The phone rang twice before hearing a familiar "Hello" on the other end of the line.

"Rory, are you okay?" he asked, when she didn't say anything.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, trying to keep the shakiness she felt from showing in her voice.

"Liar. What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Are you hurt?" She could hear the panic edging its way into his voice.

"No."

"What can I do?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

"Wait," he said, knowing she was about to hang up the phone. "You know you can call me any time, and talk about anything."

"I know. I just don't know what I want to talk about."

"I'm going to repeat my earlier comment: Liar."

She chuckled lightly. "Fine. I do know."

"And..."

"It's Tristan."

"And I'm supposed to be shocked by this revelation?"

"Shut up Harrison. You just said I could talk about anything."

Marty sighed, "I guess I should have qualified that statement." He was teasing her, and they both knew it. "What's he done that has you all twisted up?"

"He asks questions, insightful ones, and then remembers the answers," she admitted with a groan.

"Oh no! Rory Gilmore finally found a guy that's smart, and interested in something other than himself!" he said sarcastically. "Why is this a problem?"

"It's Tristan!" she exclaimed. "He's not supposed to..." she trailed off.

"He's not supposed to what?" Marty asked

"He's not supposed to care. Okay? You happy now?"

He laughed. "Of course I'm not happy. My best friend has trapped herself in a marriage with the man she's hated for years. But I do think it's funny that you thought that the arrangement would be easy."

"I never said that."

"But you thought it. Admit it."

"Fine," she admitted with a huff. "I thought it would be relatively easy."

"But..."

"It's not. There's more to Tristan DuGrey than I expected, and I don't know how to deal with it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Happy New Years! <strong>

**It's one of my goals this year to finish at least ONE of my works in progress, so hopefully you'll be seeing more from me in the near future. (The Light of Day is close to being finished, and Dyslexic Heart is closer to the end than the beginning... I'm sad to say that Half of My Heart is probably the furthest from being finished, so it likely won't be finished this year... but it is the one that I seem to have on my mind most often, so you never know.)**

**As usual, I don't own anything. I just like to play with the characters. **

**Please read and review. I want your feedback, good, bad or otherwise! **

**S**


	25. Chapter 25

Tristan raised his hand to knock on Rory's door, but stopped abruptly when he heard his name.

"There's more to Tristan DuGrey than I expected, and I don't know how to deal with it."

He stayed for another moment or two, waiting to hear what came next, but it was just silence. Likely she was listening to the response of whoever she was talking to.

Sighing in resignation, he headed towards his own bedroom.

He shut his door a little more firmly than he intended and took his coffee to the reading nook in the corner. He set the cup on the table next to his book and slowly lowered himself into the chair. He picked up The Three Musketeers and opened it to his bookmark with the intent to read. After flipping the page a time or two, he realized he hadn't a clue about what he'd just read, so he snapped the book closed and picked up his coffee cup.

So after all of these years Rory still expected him to be the same obnoxious jerk he was when they were kids. She expected that he would recognize that she had changed, but she wouldn't show him the same courtesy? What a hypocrite. He scowled into his mug. What was so wrong with trying to be friends, he wondered. Surely everyone could use another friend. Maybe everyone but the great Rory Gilmore. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

A light knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts. "What?" he growled.

"Can I come in?" Rory asked softly from the other side of his door. "I want to apologize for earlier."

This took a lot of the wind out of his sails. "Fine."

She opened the door and padded across the floor to where he was with her coffee cup in hand. She took a seat in the chair next to his without asking, and made her self comfortable.

After a couple of minutes, since it seemed like she wasn't going to say anything, he finally spoke. "Well? What happened down there?"

Rory looked at him. "I..." she started, then dropped her gaze to her coffee cup. "I don't know."

He snorted and shook his head. "Right. Try again."

"Right," she said. She set her coffee cup down on the table between them and began fidgeting. "I'm sorry." He watched her and waited for her to continue. "I'm... I'm not used to talking about myself."

Tristan laughed. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Her eyes widened at his brash proclamation. "You're one of the biggest stars of our generation, and you're not used to talking about yourself? I don't think so. You've given thousands of interviews!"

"Yeah," she admitted, "I have. But none of those interviews contain anything more than superficial questions. What's my favorite food, color, band, that kind of thing. What kind of products do I use on my hair? Who's my favorite designer? How did I like working with Some Actor? No one ever asks me why I do anything."

"Wanna trade?" he asked. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Everyone questioned my reasons for everything I did. You know, back when people cared."

"Watch out Tristan, your pity party is going to catch up to you. People have started to care again."

He narrowed his eyes at her, annoyed that she'd called him out. "So you never talk about yourself?" he asked, dragging the topic of conversation back to where it started.

"Not really."

"Not with Logan, or any of your other boyfriends, or your friends?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I talk to Marty and Lane a lot, but not because they ask me questions. It's more situational. They know my history so I don't _have_ to talk about it."

"And Logan?" he reminded her.

"Logan was mainly interested in, well, Logan. If it wasn't about him, he really didn't want to be bothered."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "And you wanted to marry this guy?"

A look of sheer frustration crossed Rory's face. "Why do you want to know more than anyone else ever did?"

This was a question that he wasn't prepared for. "Like I said before, I think our year together would go easier if we were friends. That's all."

This time it was Rory's turn to shake her head. "No. If that were true, you'd ask the easy questions. I think you have another reason for wanting to know about me."

"Oh yeah? And what reason would that be?"

"I don't know Tristan. And honestly, that worries me a little."

"Why?" he asked, suddenly offended. "Are you insinuating that I'd use anything you told me against you?"

Rory stared at him a minute. "No," she tried to backpedal. "I don't think that."

The tension that had built in his shoulders through out the course of their conversation eased and he relaxed slightly.

"But I don't know what to think. No one has ever wanted to know, and therefore I feel out of my depths."

Surprisingly, Tristan could understand that. He was all to familiar with people trying to get close to him, only to later read the personal details of his life in the gossip pages. He looked over at Rory to find her staring down at her hands. He reached out to her and tilted her chin up to look at him. "I would never," he said quietly.

She nodded, but didn't look fully convinced.

He still hadn't let go of her chin, but he got up and moved to kneel in front of her, hoping that she would understand the importance of his gesture. "Rory, I may have been an asshole to you when we were kids, and I may not even like you very much right now, but I would never sell the details of your life." She nodded again, this time looking more convinced. He continued, "It's been done to me, and hurts like hell, so I wouldn't even stoop to doing that to my worst enemy."

After his latest revelation Rory's expression finally changed. "I believe you," she said quietly.

He dropped her chin and stood up and retook his seat. "Good."

They sat and drank their coffee in silence.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory couldn't believe it, Tristan DuGrey kneeling before her tell her he'd never hurt her. This was one of her teenage fantasies come to life. Okay, so he didn't really say he'd never hurt her, but he did say he'd never sell her private information to gossip rags, which would hurt her in a big way. She still didn't understand why he wanted to know this stuff about her, but then maybe it didn't matter. Maybe he didn't know either.

She took the last drink of her coffee and broke the silence. "Well, I guess I should go back to my room. I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I will _try_ to be less suspicious and more forthcoming when you ask me questions in the future."

"Thanks. And I'll try not to push so hard when I realize something bothers you."

"Thanks." She headed towards his door. She paused when she got there and turned to face him once again. "So what do we have going on tomorrow?"

He thought about it, "Well, I start back to work on Friday so I have to memorize some pages. And I promised you we'd go out tomorrow night. You?"

"I don't really have plans. I can read lines with you if you want," she offered. "And I guess I'll make dinner reservations for tomorrow night. How do you feel about hitting a club after dinner?"

He scowled. "I'd kind of hoped my clubbing days were behind me once I got married."

"I think that given the way we got married, our clubbing days can't be behind us for a little while," she told him regretfully. "If it helps, it's not my idea of fun either. I usually just dance with my girl friends."

Tristan snorted. "Huntzberger didn't like to dance?"

She shook her head. "Nope. He'd go to the clubs, but he and the boys would hang out at the bar all night while the girls and I danced."

"Oh good, there's no pressure on me then."

"Okay," she said with a smirk. "So did you want my help with your lines tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," he admitted. "It's easier to memorize when you have someone reading the other lines."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she walked out of his door.

"Good night Molly!" he called after her.

"G'night Chad," she called back.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ At least the alarm clock didn't startle Rory this morning. She knew what it was and where she was. She reached over and shut off her phone, and got out of bed. After quickly making the bed, she grabbed an outfit and headed for Tristan's bathroom. She was determined to get her day started before Amanda arrived.

Rory tapped lightly on Tristan's door and waited for a few seconds before twisting the knob and entering his room. Like the day before, he was already gone. His side of the bed was rumpled, so she went around and rumpled the other side of the bed to match, then made her way into the bathroom.

She turned on the shower to let the water warm up and browsed his shelves while she waited. She was surprised at how few products were in his bathroom. The usuals were there, deodorant, body spray, and some hair gel, but compared to what she was used to, it seemed sparse. After a full minute of waiting, she finally pulled off her tank top and flannel pants and climbed into the shower. Given this was the first peaceful shower she'd taken in a few days, she spent an inordinate amount of time enjoying it. Just letting the hot water run over her body and ease the tensions that had been building slowly but surely over the last several days, and working through her own thoughts on what was going on in her life. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the door open.

"Are you going to be much longer Mol?" Tristan's voice startled her and she gasped.

"Tristan! What are you doing in here?"

He chuckled. "You act like I haven't been in the same room with you while you showered every day for the past several days."

"Still, you startled me."

"What are you doing in there that has you so focused?" he asked in a sultry voice.

"Not that!" she exclaimed quickly.

"Whatever you say. Are you almost done?"

"Yes!" she hissed, "Now get out!"

"Yes ma'am, but you'd better hurry, Amanda made coffee, and it smells amazing..." he trailed off hinting that he may drink it all if she didn't finish up.

She turned the shower off and grabbed for a towel, and she heard Tristan laughing from the adjoining bedroom. "If there's no coffee, you're going to pay DuGrey!" she shouted.

Since Micah had brought all of her clothes over finally, she was happy to get dressed. She pulled on a comfortable pair of bootcut jeans and a light weight but fitted v-neck sweater, something casual but if the paparazzi happened to snap a shot of her it wouldn't be captioned with something like "What's happened to Rory Gilmore?"

"I'm done," she announced as she exited the bathroom. Tristan was sprawled across the bed in his boxer briefs reading a book.

"Finally!" he said as he closed his book and hopped up to go take a shower.

Again the swoosh of his underwear flying through the air caught Rory's attention in time for her to catch a glimpse of his naked backside before she left the room.

Her cheeks flushed involuntarily. Man her husband was one fine specimen.

She caught a whiff of coffee on the air and was grateful that Tristan hadn't been lying.

"Would you like a cup of coffee Miss Gil- Rory?" Amanda asked as she started down the stairs.

"Yes please!"

"How do you take it?"

"A little cream and sugar would be great," she answered as she entered the kitchen. "But I can get it myself."

"Oh no!" Amanda exclaimed, "let me get it for you, it's the least I can do."

Rory sighed in acceptance and hopped up on a barstool to wait for her coffee. "You really shouldn't treat me any different that you treat Tristan, after all, he's your boss."

Amanda waved her off, "But you're a big star!" she said as though this was news to Rory.

She shook her head in response. "I don't want to be treated as a star at home. Home is the place that I'm supposed to be able to be myself." Amanda gave her a confused look, likely wondering how anyone could not want to be treated like a star all the time. "I'll tell you what, I'll never say another word about how you're treating me if you treat Tristan the same way."

She could the gears turning in Amanda's head as she tried to process this request. True she would no longer have to try and be casual with Rory, but then she also couldn't be so casual with Tristan. "I'll think about it," she said finally.

"Thanks," Rory said as she took a sip of her coffee. "And the coffee is great, thank you!" She took her coffee and made her way into the living room to call Micah and get her day moving.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

After a long relaxing shower, Tristan pulled on a pair of jeans and tee shirt and made his way down to the kitchen, hoping Rory had left some coffee for him.

"Good morning Mr. DuGrey," Amanda called cheerfully, "would you like me to fix you a cup of coffee?"

"What's going on with you Amanda?" he said more sharply than he intended. "You know I'm quite capable of getting my own coffee."

"Yes s-sir," she stuttered. "But Miss Gilmore said that I'm to treat the two of you the same."

"Is that so?" Tristan asked as he fixed himself a cup of coffee. "And where is Miss Gilmore?"

"She's in the living room," Amanda said quickly as she returned her attention to the dish she was making.

He took his coffee and headed to the living room with purpose. It was his intention to find out what Rory was up to, but when he entered the living room, he found her with her legs tucked up beneath her while she talked on the phone.

"... yeah, I think 7:00 would be fine. And some thing new and trendy afterwards. Just text me all the details," she said. She must have been talking to Micah. She was quiet for a moment then said, "Okay, I'll talk to you later. Thank you."

"What's at 7:00?" he asked.

She looked up at him and smiled, "our dinner reservations. Nothing super fancy, just Chateau Marmont."

"Okay. And what did you do to Amanda?"

Rory furrowed her brow slightly, "What do you mean? I didn't do anything to her."

"She called me Mr. DuGrey," Tristan told her. "She said you insisted that she do it."

Rory shook her head. "That's not what I meant."

Tristan crossed the room to take a seat next to her. "Then what did you mean?"

She sighed. "I just wanted her to treat me the same as she treats you. She calls you Tris and lets you do things for yourself. She doesn't get all weird and nervous around you." He waited for her to continue. "I told her I'd never mention how she treated me again as long as she treated you the same way. I'd rather she be super causal with me too, but if she can't then she can be awkward and formal with both of us."

He smiled. "Okay."

"Really?" Rory must have been sure he would have been upset.

He nodded. He couldn't believe she'd stuck up for him. He knew that Amanda thought Rory was a big star and he wasn't. But that Rory be willing to do something about it knowing that it bothered him kind of surprised him. "Thanks."

"Any time. When do you want to run your lines?"

He thought about it for a moment then got up to go grab the script. "Let's do it now."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory couldn't remember the last time she ran lines with someone just to help them out. Logan never wanted her help, he preferred to work alone, and therefore he also never wanted to help her, not understanding that the interaction between the characters was what really helped her cement her tone of voice and timing.

Tristan came back in the room and handed her the script, then proceeded to pace around the room while she read it. The scene they were working on was a pivotal one for character development: Tristan's character was getting ready to ship out and he was saying good bye to his longtime love.

After she read the scene she looked up at Tristan to find him in character. He was dressed in his same jeans and tee shirt, but he was stiffer. He had that innate military rigidity about him. "So what should I know about this scene?" she asked.

"Well, it's a series of flashbacks. My character has been wounded and he's trying to decide whether he wants to fight for his life or just give up," Tristan explained.

Rory nodded. "So let's begin. Do you want me to read the stage directions to set the scene?"

"Yeah." He came and took a seat on the couch next to Rory, but turned towards her so they were facing each other.

"Jack runs into the barn pulling Ruby behind him, they're both drenched and out of breath." Rory read.

"_We can wait out the storm in here." Jack ran his fingers through his hair to push the dripping mass out of his eyes. _

"_Can't we wait out the whole war in here?" Ruby wrung the water from her long dark locks._

"_Surely you know I want to Ruby. I hate the thought of leaving you here alone."_

"_Well I hate the thought of you leaving me alone. Why... I don't know how I'll go on my with life if anything happens to you Jack." _

"_Nothing's going to happen to me Ruby. I bet by the time I get there those Nazis will be all but defeated. I'll get a nice tour of Europe and then get to come home to you."_

"_You can't know that Jack. You just can't!" Tears start to stream down Ruby's cheeks. _

_Jack cups Ruby's face in his hands. "Yes I can baby. Yes I can. I will come home to you. You and me are going to have another 50 years together." He strokes away her tears. "Now it's our last night together before I ship off, you don't want to spend it cryin' do you?"_

_Ruby sniffles and leans in closer to Jack so he can wrap his arms around her. "No. I want to spend the night making sure you never forget me."_

"_I would never forget you my love." Jack leans down kisses Ruby. _

Tristan's lips met Rory's and she leaned into him. After a minute she realized what they were doing and jerked backwards away from him, panting.

"Woah."

"Woah is right," Tristan said leaning back and trying catch his own breath.

"It wasn't my intention," she stammered. "I didn't expect..."

"Me either, I'm sorry," he said.

"So, that's some scene," she admitted. "Who's playing Ruby?"

"Madeline Grant."

A pang of jealous twinged in Rory's chest. She knew Maddie. Maddie had played her cheeky best friend in a couple of movies. She was a good actress, as well as a bit of a flirt. She wasn't sure why it bothered her, but she didn't want Maddie kissing her husband let alone making love to him, even if it was just simulated for cable. "She's good," Rory said weakly.

"Yeah," Tristan agreed, "she is. Although, after that reading you just gave, you would be better."

She smiled at his compliment. "Do you want to go again?"

"Sure," he smiled back.

They spent the next several hours going through Tristan's scenes. The ones with Ruby, as well as his scenes with Eva the nurse taking care of him. Rory even tried to use a French accent with the nurse, which left them both in fits of laughter and unable to continue.

"Well, I think that's enough for today," Tristan finally said as the last of his laughter finally died down. "Thank you Rory. It's been a long time since I've had someone to read with."

"Any time. But what about Danica? Didn't she read with you?"

He shrugged. "She tried, but she was so busy trying to perfect her part that it wasn't helpful at all. She needed a barrage of compliments for even the slightest effort. It wasn't worth my time."

"Yeah, sometimes it's easier alone."

"Logan didn't read with you?"

She shook her head, "Of course not. He didn't want me to read with him, because he worked better alone, so it never occurred to him that I may want him to read with me."

"He was a fool Rory."

"Maybe," she agreed, "but so was I." Before they could go any further down that path Rory started speaking again. "So I'm going to go upstairs and read a few scripts and try to organize my closet. Let me know when you're ready for lunch." She dashed out of the room and up the stairs before he could get in a response.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan watched as Rory left the room, but he just let her go. He had a feeling that the sense of familiarity and comfort that was currently overwhelming him, was also overwhelming her. He watched the expressions that crossed her face when he told her that Madeline Grant was going to be his costar. For a second there, he thought she was going to explode. He wondered what was going through her mind.

He picked up his script and went into the den. He didn't want to read through it anymore, so instead he thought he'd distract himself with some film research. He found Saving Private Ryan and let it play, trying to get himself into the era. While he knew the words were already written for him, the pronunciation and timing were something he could always use a little work on. He knew it was a slower time, and when he got into character he didn't have any problems with the stiffer more formal movements and gestures, but he still had trouble slowing his speech.

The film began to play and he let himself get completely wrapped up in it.

A light rap on the door frame caught his attention, and he turned to find Amanda standing there. "Yeah?"

"I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out Mr. DuGrey," she said. "I made you and Miss Gilmore some chicken caesar salad wraps for lunch."

"Thanks Amanda. And you don't have to call me Mr. DuGrey, you've never done it before, so you shouldn't start now."

"But Miss Gilmore..." she trailed off.

"Rory. Just call her Rory. That's what she goes by. She's just another person. She's no better than you or me," he told her.

"But..."

"But nothing," Tristan said firmly. "She's just another person working hard to achieve her dreams. You don't need to treat her special. In truth, she wants to be treated like everyone else some times."

Amanda nodded. "Okay Tristan, I'll try."

"Thank you. I'd hate for my wife to be uncomfortable in her own home."

Amanda visibly gulped at his unspoken threat.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she headed back out of the den.

"Bye," he called absently as he returned his attention to the movie, wondering momentarily if Rory would even eat a chicken caesar salad wraps knowing her aversion to green leafy stuff.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

When his movie was over he headed upstairs to find Rory.

He knocked on her door to hear her call out "Come on in!" He opened the door to find her stacking boxes of shoes with pictures taped on the outside. There was a small pile of accessories on the bed along with some scripts.

"What's going on?" she asked as she added another box to another stack.

"Just thought I'd see if you wanted some lunch. It's about 2:00 and our dinner reservations aren't until 7:00."

"Yeah, that sounds good. What are we having?"

"Well, Amanda made chicken caesar wraps." He watched Rory's nose wrinkle in distaste before he was even finished speaking. "But I could make you a BLT if you'd rather."

"Mmmmm bacon."

"So I guess that's a yes?"

She nodded eagerly. "Easy on the lettuce."

"How about a bacon, avocado, tomato sandwich instead?" he asked.

Rory let out a very Homer Simpson like moan combined with some mock drooling.

Tristan laughed. "Got it."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Lunch, while delicious, was uneventful. Rory spent the rest of her afternoon weeding through more scripts. She declined about half of the ones her agent had sent based solely on the fact that they bored her to tears. Another quarter was declined based on the writing. The story was interesting, but the writing was so bad that even with several re-writes it would be romantic fluff at best. While Rory knew her bread and butter was romantic comedies, she was ready to sink her teeth into something a little meatier. The rest, including Wake Me Up Before You Go were maybes. She'd read them all from start to finish then narrow it down further.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ She looked over at her phone and noticed that it was 5:00. She had one hour to get ready to go to dinner with Tristan.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine their evening to pick something to wear. Smiling, she headed towards her dress boxes. It was in the second one she opened. A short blue tank dress with a sequined belt and a bit of a flirty hem. She could pair it with a jacket for dinner, then ditch the jacket and dance the night away comfortably.

She made her way into Tristan's bathroom and pulled her cosmetics and flat iron out of his linen closet. She was half way through straightening her hair when Tristan stuck his head in.

"What are you wearing tonight?" he asked.

"A cute blue dress and some sliver jewelry."

"That stuff that Paris got you that looks like it's melting?" he asked.

"Yeah. How'd you know Paris got that for me?"

He backed out of the door quickly, "just a guess."

"Tristan, get back here!" she called loudly.

He stuck his head back in the door, "Yes?"

"How'd you know Paris bought me that?" she asked again.

He looked down at his watch, then over at the shower. "I was with her when she bought it," he finally admitted.

"Oh. Okay," she said, dropping the subject. "I'll be done in here in about 20 minutes if you need to get in.

"No problem, I can use another bathroom."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

It was exactly 6:00 pm when Rory came down the stairs. Like the night they'd gone to dinner with his parents she was wearing a cocktail dress and carrying her high heels. And also like the night they'd gone to dinner with his parents, she looked beautiful.

After hearing that she was wearing blue, Tristan decided to wear his navy blue Armani suit, with a white button down shirt with blue French cuffs. He could leave the jacket behind while they were at the club and roll up the sleeves.

"You clean up nicely DuGrey," she told him when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"You're not so bad yourself Gilmore."

She made her way towards the garage, stopping just at the door to slide into her heels. The heels put her much closer to his own height of 6 foot 2. He could kiss her without having to bend down. _Woah_ where did that thought come from? He shook his head vigorously to dispel the thought.

"You okay there?" she asked as she slid her jacket on.

"Of course! I was just trying to remember what club we're going to after dinner," he replied.

"I don't remember either, Micah texted it to me, but I've never heard of it. It's supposed to be super hot and trendy. Just what we need right now."

"Well shall we?" he asked as he extended his hand to her.

"Let's." She took his hand and followed him into the garage, where he helped her into the car.

"What's with the gentlemanliness?" she asked as he situated himself in the car.

Tristan shrugged. "I think it's a byproduct of spending most of my day immersed in the 1940's."

Rory chuckled, and Tristan let out a discrete sigh of relief.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The drive to the restaurant was surprisingly quick. They were early enough for their reservations that they had time to have a cocktail in the bar. While Tristan had a Maker's Manhattan, Rory ordered an Old Fashioned. The thing about going to Chateau Marmont was that there were so many celebrities there they could actually go unnoticed for a while, and that was something they could both appreciate.

They sat in quiet conversation enjoying their drinks and the music until the hostess came to take them to their table.

Paparazzi snapped pictures of them as they were led to a cozy table by the windows, but once they were seated they were left alone.

This dinner was much more comfortable than the last one. The food was delicious and the bottle of wine was perfectly paired to compliment the meal. Rory found that their conversation was much easier than she expected. Surprisingly they had more in common than she thought. They liked the same type of music, and had similar tastes in television shows and books. One striking difference was sports. While Tristan was a huge football fan, Rory couldn't have followed along if she were paid.

"I will get you to one game at least," Tristan promised her.

"Over my dead body!" she told him.

"It'll be because you lost a bet to me, but I'll get you there."

"I'd rather not bet," Rory admitted,"But maybe we can work it out in trade. I'll go to a sporting event with you if you go to a musical with me."

He mulled it over for a minute or two before saying, "I think a trade would be fair."

Rory smiled at the thought of Tristan dressed up for the theater. It would be good for him. "Great. Should we get some dessert before we go?"

He nodded. "I think tiramisu would be nice."

When the waiter came by Tristan ordered the tiramisu and a pair of cappuccinos.

Once it was delivered Rory dug in for the first bite. "Oh goodness this is delicious! Tristan have a bite!"

"I'm surprised you're willing to share," he said smugly.

She leaned in towards him, beckoning him to come closer. He leaned in to meet her close enough that he could smell the coffee liquor on her breath. "If we were at home, I wouldn't be sharing. But there's no way I can eat this whole thing in public," she whispered in a low voice.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed rather more loudly than he intended.

Her eyes narrowed and she stuffed a bite of tiramisu in his mouth to shut him up.

"Sorry," he said through the mouthful of dessert.

They finished their dessert and Tristan paid the bill. "Are you ready to hit the club?" he asked as he helped her into her coat.

The paparazzi got more snaps of them smiling happily and leaving the restaurant hand in hand.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The coat check girl eagerly took both of their coats, after Tristan pocketed Rory's ID and credit cards, and this time it was Rory that led Tristan into the loud club.

As Micah had told her, the club was packed with celebrities of all facets. There were musicians, actors, and athletes milling about, along with a few beautiful people that were allowed past the ropes.

With a few whispered words, Tristan made his way to the bar to get them drinks while Rory took a turn around the room looking for a place to sit and some people she knew.

"Hey Rory," a voice called out to her. She turned to acknowledge the person to find herself face to face with Honor Huntzberger.

"Hi Honor," she replied coolly. "How are you?"

"I'm great. I'm out with the girls tonight since Josh is off shooting on location. What about you?"

Great, the girls. Last she checked the _girls_ Honor hung out with included Stephanie Vanderbuilt, a Victoria's Secret model, Rosemary McMartin, a B-List actress, and Juliet Reading, a pop-singer that had one hit about five years ago, but yet she somehow managed to hang on to fame.

"I'm out with my husband."

"Oh yes, the delectable Tristan DuGrey," Honor practically purred.

"That is my full name," Tristan said with a smirk as he came up behind Rory and wrapped an arm around her. "Here's your drink Mol."

"Thanks Chad," she said as she leaned in and pecked his cheek. She poured the whole drink down her throat. "Let's dance!"

Tristan let Rory lead him to the dance floor.

"So who was that?" he asked as he pulled her close to dance.

"Honor Huntzberger."

"Logan's..."

"Sister," Rory finished.

They danced for a few moments, with Rory running her hands up Tristan's chest and over his shoulders, and Tristan running his hands down her sides and to her waist, pulling her even closer.

"Does that mean..." The words weren't even all the way out of Tristan's mouth before he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, may I cut in?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As usual I don't own any of it. I'm just taking the characters out for a spin. I don't own Saving Private Ryan, or Maker's Mark. And I completely made up the dialogue for Tristan's mini series. <strong>

**Please read and review and let me know what you think.**

**S**


	26. Chapter 26

Rory cringed at the familiar voice, but Tristan held strong and refused to acknowledge the tap on his shoulder and request to cut in.

They continued dancing until Logan appeared almost between them. "Excuse me," he said again loudly, "can I cut in?"

Tristan stepped to the side to face Logan, but kept an arm around Rory's waist. Rory slid her own arm behind his back. "No," he responded firmly.

"Are you kidding me DuGrey? I just asked for a dance. It's no big deal," Logan said with a laugh.

Rory took in the image of Logan. He looked exactly the same as she remembered. He was handsome and well dressed, with just the right amount of product in his hair, but somehow, next to Tristan, he wasn't nearly as impressive as he used to be. He was a few inches shorter, and his action hero's build made him thicker. Next to Tristan's tall, lean, graceful frame, Logan looked short and squat.

"No, I'm not kidding you Huntzberger. You asked me if you could dance with my wife, and I said no."

Logan started to respond, but Rory wasn't paying attention. She could feel Tristan's muscles tensing, and she knew that if she didn't do something, it would become an issue. She leaned in close to Tristan and draped her free arm across his shoulder and chest, she tilted her head to whisper in his ear.

"Don't hit him Tristan. He's trying to push your buttons, and trying to make you react. He is a big enough asshole that he will press charges." Tristan let out a low growl, but Rory kept talking, "It's not worth the huge mess that the satisfaction of hitting him would give you. I'd have to bail you out of jail and you'd probably end up with a black eye for your shoot tomorrow." She felt him relax just a tiny bit and she knew she was getting to him. She nipped his ear lightly and whispered "thank you." She planted a couple of lush wet kisses on his neck and finally returned her attention to Logan, without removing her body from Tristan's.

Rory interrupted whatever Logan was saying. "Why do you want to dance with me Logan? In the four years we were together, you maybe danced with me twice."

He shrugged, "I haven't seen you in a while, I thought it'd be nice to catch up."

"Yeah, dancing in a loud club is the best place to catch up." Rory rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay, then how about we get a drink at the bar," Logan suggested.

"Huntzberger, what part of no aren't you understanding here?" Tristan asked firmly.

"Isn't your fiancee here?" Rory added.

"Yes, Fallon is here, but unlike your husband, she lets me talk to whomever I wish," Logan replied snidely.

Rory laughed and looked up at Tristan, "I love that he thinks you're the one keeping me from talking to him."

Tristan laughed in response and kissed Rory's temple. "He sure doesn't know you very well."

Logan scowled at them, but Tristan pulled Rory back into his arms. "Do you want to dance?" he asked.

She nodded, and they began to move to the music once again, doing their best to ignore Logan as he stood there staring. Then doing their best not to laugh too hard when he stormed off.

"How come your ex doesn't stalk us?" Rory asked with a pout.

"You're too high profile for her to even think she's got a chance," Tristan told her.

"Well I guess that's okay."

They danced for a few more songs, until they were both just a hot sweaty mess. "Do you want to get another drink?" Rory asked as she fanned herself.

"Sure, but you're coming with me, I don't want Huntzberger to try and get back in your good graces while I'm gone." He pulled her through the crowd as he made his way to the bar.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked when they got there.

"Shots of tequila?" Rory suggested. The drink she had downed to avoid talking to Honor had caught up with her.

Tristan smiled. "Just one though. I'm driving, and frankly, I don't feel like carrying you out to the car."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

They bellied up to the bar and Tristan flagged down the bartender. "Two shots of Patron," he said loud enough to be heard.

The bartender smiled, and nodded in understanding. A few moments later he delivered the two shots along with two lime wedges and a shaker of salt.

"Together?" Tristan asked Rory.

She looked past him, then back at him and shook her head. "No, me first."

"Okay."

"Body shot style." That first drink must have given her some liquid courage.

His heart rate accelerated, and he rolled up his left sleeve to expose his forearm to Rory. She smiled a devilish smile, and leaned in to lick him. He didn't know if it was the overstimulation of the lights and the noise in the club, or something else, but he felt her lick everywhere. She shook the salt onto his arm, and looked up at him, silently asking if he was ready. He picked up her lime wedge and nodded.

She took another swipe at his arm with her tongue to collect the salt, then downed the tequila, and when she looked to him for her lime, he smiled to show her that he was holding the wedge between his teeth. She tilted her head and he lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips met and she lingered at his mouth sucking the pulp out of the lime.

She finally backed away, taking the lime with her.

"My turn," he said, his voice unintentionally sultry.

Rory waited patiently while he looked her up and down, trying to determine where he wanted to lick his salt from. His first choice was her collarbone, but the straps of the dress were too thick to make that happen. It looked like he'd be taking his lick from the inside of her forearm as well. She must have come to that realization as well, as she was already offering her arm to him.

It was at this point that he finally saw what gave Rory some of her courage, Logan Huntzberger had just appeared his line of sight. Would this guy ever go away? Tristan grabbed Rory's offered arm and planted a kiss on her palm, then kissed his way up her wrist before taking a long slow lick up her inner arm. He could feel her shiver at his touch. He shook some salt on to her arm, and smiled as she picked up the lime and put it in her mouth. He took another slow swipe up her arm with his tongue, tossed back his shot of tequila, and put his mouth to hers to claim his lime. He let his mouth linger as she had done and she slid her arms up his shoulders and around his neck.

He finally pulled away from, taking the lime with him. He pulled the rind from his teeth and discarded it in the empty shot glass. "Thanks," he said smugly.

"No, thank you," Rory practically purred in response.

"You guys want to do another round?" Logan asked. "Drinks are on me."

"No thanks," Tristan replied dryly.

Rory ignored Logan completely, and kept her attention focused on Tristan. "Another dance or two before we head home?"

"Rory?" Logan asked, interrupting Tristan's response.

"No thanks," she said without even turning to face him.

"Sure, let's dance." Tristan let Rory pull him back towards the dance floor, and gave Logan his smarmiest shit-eating grin on his way past him.

When they reached the dance floor, Tristan leaned in to whisper in Rory's ear. "So I guess I should thank Huntzberger for that show?"

"What show?" she asked innocently.

"The one we just put on at the bar."

She scoffed. "If you want to, but really the only thing he should get credit for is the the fact that the tequila shots were body shots." She blushed a little. "I'm sorry if I got carried away."

This time it was Tristan's turn to blush a little. "You can get carried away like that any time you want. I don't mind making Huntzberger feel like an asshole, but only as long as I don't end up feeling like the joke was on me later."

Rory shook her head fiercely. "I wouldn't do that."

"Okay."

"I hate feeling like the joke is on me. I wouldn't want to make someone else feel like that."

She was surprisingly vehement on the topic, and Tristan was sure there was a story behind it, but instead of delving into in the night club he let it go. He pulled her a little closer than before, and they just danced.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

After probably 45 minutes of dancing, Rory was beginning to feel tired. She was hot, and sweaty, and the buzz from her tequila shot had worn off. The events of the day were finally taking their toll on her, and she really just wanted to go home and put a little distance between herself and Tristan. The body shots and the extremely close dancing, coupled with the kiss from earlier was definitely making their relationship feel a little too real for her.

She took a step back from him and began to fan her face.

"Getting hot?" he asked

"I'm way past _getting_ hot. I'm melting!" she told him.

He laughed, "Are you ready to go then?"

She nodded, and he spun her around to face the door, then nudged her towards it, as he rested his hands on her waist so they wouldn't get separated.

Rory had hoped that once they got off the dance floor they could make a beeline for the coat check, but it seemed like the universe had other plans for her. They were not more than two steps off the dance floor when a girl approached them.

"Hey Rory! How are you?" she asked.

"We're great," Rory replied as she wracked her brain trying to come up with the girl's name.

"Hi Tristan, I'm Jessica," the girl said, jutting her chest out to emphasize her ample C cups. "I'm a huge fan of yours."

Tristan moved from behind Rory, to standing beside her, but where Logan would have put a couple of inches of space between them, Tristan draped a proprietary arm over her shoulder. "Thanks," he said dryly.

"Jessica had a role in _Campus Crush_," Rory explained, as she had finally remembered how she knew the girl.

"Cool," Tristan continued the same dry tone. "We should get home Mol, I've got an early call tomorrow morning."

"Of course Chad, sorry about that," Rory replied playing into his excuse. "Nice to see you Jessica."

"Does that happen to you often?" Tristan asked quietly as they moved towards the coat check.

"All the time," she admitted.

"Tristan, HEY!" a loud shout stopped their progress.

Rory looked for the source of the sound to see a table filled with twenty something college guys. She glanced up at Tristan to see him rolling his eyes, but instead of continuing on the way to their coats, he redirected and walked over to the table with Rory still under his arm.

"Hey guys!" Tristan answered back. "What's going on?"

"Just hanging out and trying to pick up chicks," one of the guys answered.

"Have fun with that," Tristan replied.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" one of the other guys asked quickly before Rory and Tristan could leave.

"Why?" Tristan asked, "you already know who this is."

"But she doesn't know who we are," the first guy prompted.

Tristan snorted, "and why would she want to know who you guys are anyhow?"

"So when she's done with you, she has a pool of younger models to choose from."

Rory laughed, but Tristan's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Sorry guys," she said, "I can't see any reason I'd ever replace the original with an impostor." The table of guys laughed and her quip. "Have a good night guys!" She pulled Tristan towards the coat check again.

It took three more stops to say hello to people she knew before they finally got there, including another awkward encounter with Honor Huntzberger and her friends, but soon Tristan was helping Rory into her coat, and they were outside waiting for the valet to bring the car around.

The ride home was fairly quiet. Rory was not sure what Tristan was thinking about, but she was replaying the events of the day in her head.

"What time is your call in the morning?" she asked.

"9:00," he answered. "The location is about 30 minutes from the house."

"Okay."

Silence resumed for the remainder of the drive.

After they pulled into the garage, Rory took her time getting her stuff together and getting out of the car. Tristan was waiting for her by the entrance to the house, holding the door open for her.

"I had a good time tonight," he admitted as she entered the foyer and stopped to pull off her high heels.

She sighed with relief when her bare feet hit the floor. "Me too. I mean, it would have been more fun without Logan, but other than that I had a good time."

"Are you heading to bed?" he asked.

Rory looked at the clock on her phone and realized it was just past midnight. "Yeah, dancing always wears me out."

"Do you want to take a shower first?"

She thought about it, but she wasn't sure that being naked in close proximity to Tristan was a good idea tonight. Her self control was a little fragile after the body shots and all of the touching on the dance floor. "I think I'll just wait until tomorrow. I wouldn't want to pass out in the shower."

"Suit yourself." Tristan had taken off his jacket and kicked off his loafers. He slung the jacket over his shoulder and headed towards the stairs.

"Wait," Rory called. He stopped and waited for her as she picked up her shoes and crossed the room to where he was. She popped up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, then headed up the stairs, leaving him standing there watching her go.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan waited a few seconds then followed Rory up the stairs. He turned on his shower and stripped his clothes off as he waited for the water to heat up. Part of him was glad Rory had chosen not to take a shower. He wasn't sure he could handle her naked in his shower without trying to climb in there with her. Not after tonight. He couldn't believe the nerve of Logan Huntzberger. If Rory hadn't wrapped herself around him, he totally would have punched Logan. He still might if he saw him again.

Remembering the way Rory felt wrapped around his body caused parts of him to react. He would never have thought Rory Gilmore could inspire those feelings in him. Okay, maybe he thought about it once or twice during the first season of Molly's World, but he was teenage boy, he thought about almost everyone of the opposite sex that way.

He stepped under the shower stream and let the hot water relax him.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory laid in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of Tristan's shower, and wondering what he was doing in there. A familiar feeling that she hadn't had in quite a while crept over her. She rubbed her legs together, and rolled over on to her stomach. Tristan was right. There was no way they'd make it a year without having sex. She closed her eyes and tried to distract herself from Tristan's shower by counting sheep.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ Tristan's alarm clock woke him with a start. It was set for 30 minutes earlier than usual due to his call time. He stretched in bed, before pushing himself into a seated position and sliding his legs over the edge. He stood up and went into his closet to pull on his running gear.

He quietly snuck down the stairs with his shoes in his hand. He pulled his Nikes on quickly and headed out the side door onto the patio. He made his way past the pool, and to the back gate that separated the house from the beach.

The beach was deserted at this time of the morning. It was cool and foggy, and it seemed like if he ran far enough he could disappear into the fog. He usually ran between five and ten miles a day, depending on his mood. This morning, he was in a hurry, so he ran the short track.

Tristan loved the peace of his morning runs. No one stopped him for autographs or photos, and he could just lose himself in his thoughts. Today he tried to focus on his lines for his shoot, but instead he kept having images of Rory flash through his brain. Some of the images he knew were real, her in the dress from last night dancing at the club, and in her pjs laughing at something he'd said, and some of them he wasn't so sure about. He could picture her in the outfit she wore the night of the gig in Atlantic City, clinging to him and kissing his neck. He could see her beneath him and feel her nails raking down his back. But then again, maybe that was just his hormones creating some wishful thinking.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory woke with a start to her phone ringing. No one ever called her this early. "Hello?" she answered quickly. She could feel the panic rising wondering what was wrong.

"Rory are you okay?" a familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Dad?" she asked. "Is everything okay?"

"That's why I'm calling. Are you okay?"

She pulled the phone away from her face to check the time. It was 6:15 in the morning. "I'm sleeping. Why are you calling so early? It's not even 7:00 am! Are you okay? Is Grandma okay?"

"We're all fine. I'm just worried about you!" he exclaimed.

Rory pushed herself into a seated position and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "I'm fine. I just saw you on Monday. Why would you think I'm not fine?"

"There's a picture of you in the paper taking a shot of something and it's captioned with_ More heartache for Gilmore_."

Rory groaned. "It's probably an old picture Dad. I'm fine. Tristan and I are fine."

"It's not an old picture. Your hair is short and you're wearing your wedding ring."

"Gah!" Rory screamed into her pillow. "Am I wearing a blue dress with wide straps?"

"Yeah," Christopher confirmed.

"Someone took a picture of me at the club Tristan and I went to last night."

"Tristan's not in the picture."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Christopher sighed. "I think I know what my son-in-law looks like Rory. I may be getting older, but I'm not senile. And why are you drinking in public? After everything you went through after the breakup with Logan, I thought you would have learned your lesson."

"Dad, it's too early for a lecture. I was at a club with my husband, we had shots of tequila together. I'm 30 years old, it's hardly a crime."

"Then why isn't Tristan in the pictures?"

"I don't know Dad. Someone is trying to cause trouble."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Now it was her turn to sigh. "I'm good, a little bored from lack of work, but Tristan and I are doing just fine."

"Still. I think I'm going to come for a visit."

"I'm not a child you know," she reminded him.

"You may not be a child anymore, but you will always be my child," Chris reminded her. "I'll book a flight and come next weekend."

"Alright Dad."

"Be careful when you go out, if someone is trying to cause trouble, you should be more mindful."

She knew he was just concerned because he loved her, but still his lecture made her feel like a child again. She knew who was behind this. Logan _fucking_ Huntzberger. He didn't want her, but he didn't want her to be happy with anyone else either.

"We'll be more careful Dad."

She could almost feel him relaxing 3000 miles away. "Thank you. I love you Rory, and I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"I know," she said quietly.

"Well, I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll see you next weekend okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry I worried you."

"Bye hon, go back to sleep."

"Love you Dad," she said as she hung up the phone. She laid back down, and closed her eyes, but knew she couldn't get back to sleep.

After a few minutes she gave up and got out of bed. She grabbed some clothes and tiptoed into Tristan's room. She wasn't sure why she was surprised that he wasn't there, but she was.

She took a long hot shower, before carefully getting dressed. Since her car was in the shop and she had lunch plans with Marty, she was going to have to drop Tristan at the studio and take his car. She hoped he'd be okay with it. She didn't want to cause a scene, but she also didn't want to be trapped at home until her car was ready. She pulled on a cute pair of boot cut jeans, and fitted button down shirt. She left the top couple buttons open and threw on her daisy necklace.

After she was dressed she went and made a pot of coffee and curled up on the couch with a book.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan hoped he'd be back from his run just in time to catch Rory in the shower. He was pretty sure she wouldn't let him join her in the shower, but a chance glimpse of her naked might sustain him for a little while. He checked his watch as he entered the house, it was just ten minutes to 7:00, he'd forgotten that his run was earlier than usual. He was pretty sure Rory wasn't up yet.

With his earbuds still firmly planted in his ears, "_We're never gonna win the world, we're never going to stop the war," _Tristan sang along with John Mayer as he slipped off his sandy shoes and left them by the patio door. He turned around only to be startled by Rory sitting on the couch, staring at him.

He jerked the earbuds out of his ears. "You're up early."

She sighed. "My dad called."

"Is everything okay?"

"You sing pretty well," she said changing the subject.

"No one would pay to hear it, but I can carry tune," he confessed. "But why did your dad call?" She sat there in silence for a minute, and finally he came over to sit next to her.

"You're staring to worry me, is everything okay?"

She picked up her phone and started searching for something.

"Rory, can you just tell me what's going on?" He was starting to get impatient, and a little nervous.

"I have to show you." She finally found what she was looking for and handed him her phone. There she was, large as life, taking a shot of tequila with the caption _More heartache for Gilmore. _

"How is this possible?" Tristan asked. "I was right next to you all night long! Hell, I was right next to you when this happened!"

"I know," she said. "If you read the _story_" she paused to put air quotes around the word story, "I'm pretty sure Logan is behind it. It says something about you leaving me alone to go talk to other girls, but not allowing me to talk to any other people."

"And your dad believes this?" he knew he didn't know his father-in-law very well, but the thought that someone could think he was that slimy stung a bit.

"No. But he's my dad. He's just worried about anything that could happen to me. He called to make sure I was okay, and make sure it wasn't true. And of course, to lecture me about drinking in public."

"I'm going to kill Huntzberger," Tristan seethed.

Rory smiled up at him. "I appreciate the the gesture, but it's not worth it. He's a sore loser and he's bent out of shape about it. Anything you do would just make it worse."

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I, but the microscope is something we have to deal with for now."

"Anything else?" Tristan asked as he got up off the couch. He needed to go shower after his run, and the conversation with Rory had ruined his endorphin induced good mood.

"My dad's coming to visit next weekend," she said quickly.

"Really?" Tristan shouted. "You're kidding right?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. Go get your shower." He headed up the stairs, and she called after him, "I'll make you a cup of coffee if you want."

"That'd be great. Cream and sugar please," he said from the top of the stairs.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

He slammed the door to his bedroom and stripped off his clothes, pausing long enough to muss the other side of the bed, as Rory had clearly been too distracted earlier and forgotten to do it. He turned on the shower and climbed in before it even had a chance to warm up. He couldn't believe the nerve of Logan Huntzberger. What was that guy's problem?

He heard the door open, and then Rory setting a cup of coffee down on the counter for him.

"I never in a million years thought Logan would be such a pain in the ass," she said quietly.

"It's not your fault," he said from under the water.

"Thanks." She slipped out the door and let him shower in peace.

After his shower, he threw on jeans and a tee shirt. Wardrobe would deal with his hair and all of that stuff once he was on the set.

He drank his coffee, which was surprisingly good, and headed downstairs to find Rory talking to Amanda in the kitchen.

"We won't need anything for lunch today, Tristan's on the set and I'm having lunch with a friend," Rory said.

"Okay Ms. Gilmore."

"Who are you having lunch with?" Tristan asked.

"Marty," she said quickly, "Didn't I tell you that? He wants me to read part of his new script."

"Oh."

"Is that okay?" she asked.

"Of course. You don't need my permission."

"Well, I know that, but still..." she trailed off.

"So how are you getting there?"

"I thought I'd drop you at the studio and then take your car," Rory said with a smile. "My car won't be ready until next week."

Tristan bit his tongue, wanting to challenge her, but also not wanting to bicker with his new wife in front of Amanda.

"Besides, I want to see your set and all."

That was a surprise. Rory had been on a million movie and TV sets over the years. "Okay, that works for me. We should get going then."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"Do you want to run your lines one more time?" Rory asked as she climbed into the passengers seat.

Tristan shook his head. "Nah, I think I've got them down. So, why do you want to see the set? You've seen tons of sets."

"Well, I feel like a good wife would know what her husband is up to and who he's working with, just in case anyone asks me about it," she admitted."Besides, I don't have anything else to do this morning."

"Right, before you go have lunch with _Marty_," he replied.

"Tristan, are you jealous of Marty?"

He scoffed, "No. Why would I be jealous of him?"

"I don't know. But it seems like you are."

"I'm not."

They drove in silence for a little bit, with Rory watching the scenery as it passed.

"I just think it's weird that my wife's best friend is a guy," Tristan finally said. "And I don't like the idea that some other guy knows so much about my life."

"I'm sorry," Rory told him. She wasn't going to change it, but she was sorry that it bothered him. "I won't tell him anything personal about you."

"Thanks."

Tristan turned up the radio, and they both quietly sang along with the current Top 40 pop hit that filled the silence.

Another twenty minutes later Tristan pulled into a small studio lot. "We're here," he said.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan parked in his usual spot and went around to help Rory out of the car. She slid down from her seat and slipped her hand into his. He led her towards the studio, pausing to say hello to the guard.

"Good morning Mr. DuGrey."

"Good morning, Marco."

"You're one of the last to arrive," the guard said with a smile.

"Great!" he continued on his path into the studio.

"Why is that great?" Rory asked as he pulled her along.

"If everyone else is here, then we get to start on time. Sometimes egos get in the way, and divas are late just because they can be. Surely you run into that at work."

She shook her head. "Nope. My dad would have totally grounded me if I thought I was important enough to make everyone else wait for me."

"Really?"

"Yep. There's no place for egos on my projects. I'm the biggest star, and I'm always on time, so everyone else is too."

Tristan led Rory into his dressing room, to find the stylist and the makeup artist waiting for him.

"Good morning Tristan," they both cooed together.

"Good morning Ella, Marie. Let me introduce you to my wife." He pulled Rory forward. "Rory, this is Ella, the best make up artist I've ever worked with. And this is Marie, the coolest wardrobe mistress around."

"It's nice to meet you," Rory said politely.

"You too Ms. Gilmore," they stuttered.

"Tris! Are you ready for our big love scene today?" Madeline Grant exclaimed as she burst into the room.

Tristan smiled, "Sure thing Maddy. Guess who came along to watch!"

Rory's voice had escaped her so she merely smiled and waved at Maddy.

"Rory!" Madeline squealed! "OMG it's so good to see you!" She rushed towards Rory and enveloped her in a hug.

"Hey Maddy. When Tristan told me who he was shooting with, I just had to come and say hi!"

"Are you sticking around for the shoot?"

"No, I've got a lunch date, and I don't want to make Tristan nervous," Rory replied with a wink.

"Well it's great to see you, even if it is only for a couple minutes."

"You too. We'll have to get lunch soon."

Rory wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him close to her. "Have a good day at work Chad," she said with her face close enough to his that her lips moved across his as she spoke.

"Have fun with Chip, Mol," he whispered back.

Something overtook her, and she just had to kiss him. She wanted to make sure her fake husband didn't forget her while he was busy making out with another girl. She kissed him with everything she had. Only pulling back when she ran out of air.

"What time do you wrap?" she asked breathlessly.

"Wrap?" he asked equally breathlessly.

"You know, finish shooting for the day." She giggled, loving that their kiss clouded his brain as much as it did hers.

"Right. Be back at four."

"Four," she repeated, and then leaned in and kissed him again. "One more for good luck."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As usual I don't own anything.<strong>

**The song Tristan is singing when he comes in from his run is Belief off the Continuum album.**

**You all know I love reviews, but this story is coming to a crossroad, and so my dear readers, would you please answer this question in your review:**

**Things are about to heat up for Tristan and Rory - at least for the time being. There are three ways I see that I can possibly handle this:**

**I can leave the story rating at T and allude to any actions that may require an M rating.**

**I can up the story rating to M and you can read about the actions that require the M rating.**

**I can leave the story at T, and then create a separate story rated M that is just the M rated outtakes.**

**How would you like me to proceed?**

**While I know that it's ultimately my decision, I would hate to lose readers due to the rating change. (Also, I'm a rather timid writer when it comes to "the good stuff" so it would be mild M)**

**Please let me know what your preference is in your review!**

**Hope you're all enjoying the story.**

**S**


	27. Chapter 27

Rory left the studio with smile on her face. She was leaving way earlier than planned, but after telling Maddie she wasn't planning to stick around, she couldn't very well hang out.

Tristan had given her the keys, so she made her way back to the car and plugged her phone into the dock. It was far too early to go to Marty's, and she didn't feel like going home while Amanda was still there, so she pulled up the address to Burberry on Rodeo Drive and pointed the car in the direction of some retail therapy. On her way to Beverly Hills, she perused Tristan's pre-set radio stations. He listened to the same type of music that she did. There was some classic rock, some contemporary pop, and even an indie rock station that she had saved because they occasionally played Hep Alien. She flipped through the stations until she found a song she liked, and then focused on the joy of driving a car that wasn't currently being stalked by the press.

She pulled in to the valet line at Burberry just as Sara Bareilles starting singing about being Brave. Rory had to do her best not to sing along, knowing that the valet would open her door the second she burst into song. As there were members of the paparazzi just floating around the valet line, waiting for someone famous to get out of the car, the last thing she needed was someone getting footage of her singing.

A valet opened the door for her and handed her a claim check. "Happy shopping Ms. Gilmore," he told her politely.

"Thank you," she replied, accepting the ticket for the car, and trying not to draw attention to herself.

Unfortunately, the valet had a relatively loud voice, and as soon as he said Gilmore, heads began swiveling in her direction. By the time she got to the sidewalk, there were a dozen reporters calling her name. "Rory, where's Tristan?" one shouted.

She stopped and smiled at them. "He's at work!" she told them lightly. "I'm trying to be a good wife here and not drag him shopping," she joked.

The men chuckled and joked about how they wished their wives were so kind, and the women asked about what she was shopping for.

"I don't know, I'm just shopping for something that strikes my fancy. Maybe if you're still here when I leave, I'll show you what I bought," Rory told them as she entered the store. She was grateful that the stores didn't allow the paparazzi to come inside. She couldn't imagine what would show up in the paper if someone was trying to scrutinize the items she looked at but didn't buy.

Rory looked through racks of clothes, finally picking out a couple of cute dresses, a sweater, and a classic Burberry trench coat that would be perfect for the winter. She made her purchases and left them with the cashier as she headed for the back of the store. She took a narrow hall and stepped out of an unmarked exit. This was one of Beverly Hills' most guarded secrets. All of the stores on a given block were connected, and there was tiny courtyard in the back that had doors to all of the other stores. This way celebrities could slip between stores without being followed. Rory had specifically chosen Burberry because it was in the same block as La Perla. She snuck through the back entrance to La Perla, and was momentarily awed at all of the amazing undergarments.

She began browsing, not sure of what she was looking for. After a few minutes of looking, she finally realized she was looking for something Tristan might like. Rory had drawers full of lingerie, but if it wasn't something she could wear every day, it was something that Logan had picked. Given how Tristan felt about seeing her in Dean's old boxer shorts and Logan's old tee shirts, she was pretty sure he wouldn't react well to lingerie that Logan had picked out. Besides, she had the feeling that Tristan wasn't into the same stuff that Logan was.

Rory never fully understood the point of lingerie. Why spend all that money on something that was only going to be worn for a few minutes? Unless it was for a scene in a movie, Rory didn't think she'd spent more than a few minutes at a time in lingerie. Logan loved the stuff. So basically, Rory would spend twenty minutes getting all of the bits and pieces put on, trying to look sexy, so Logan could spend the following ten minutes taking it off of her.

As she flicked her way through corsets and baby dolls, she had an epiphany. Why should she concern herself with buying stuff that Tristan liked? She spent all of her relationship with Logan doing things because Logan liked them, and she was tired of it. She was an adult, not a child. She should buy what she liked, and if Tristan liked it great. If not, well he's not the one that has to wear it. She abruptly left the racks of nighties and worked her way towards the pajamas. She found a cute pair of silk shorts with a matching camisole, in a brilliant blue, and a matching robe. She rubbed the silky material against her cheek, and all of the sudden, couldn't wait to wear this outfit. Even if it was just for her. The same outfit was also available in pink and white stripes. She snatched it up too.

She took her purchases to the sales girl, and waited while they were rung up and wrapped up. "These are very _cute_," the sales girl said, a tiny bit snidely.

Rory shrugged. "They look comfortable, and frankly, if the maid catches me in this, I'm not going to be mortified," she replied.

The girl giggled, and gently tucked the pieces into a bag. "Well I guess that's true! Have a good day Ms. Gilmore."

Rory took the bag and made her way back out the way she came in, and headed back into the Burberry store. She headed to the counter to have the sales associate store her La Perla purchases with the stuff she bought earlier, then headed to the mens department to pick up something for Tristan. She chuckled to herself at the thought of buying clothes for Tristan. She couldn't image that he'd like anything she picked out, but she also couldn't imagine leaving the store without having at least one item for her new husband.

She browsed the mens department for a few minutes before picking up a classic Burberry scarf and a jaunty red hat. Rory doubted Tristan would ever wear the cap, but it was something she couldn't resist. The trench coats were next; Tristan could totally pull off a trench coat. He was tall and thin, and would probably look like he just stepped off a film noir set. She grabbed the first coat and glanced at the size. 42R. What did that mean? Was that small or large? She sighed and put the coat back, she'd have no way of figuring out what size Tristan was without asking him.

"Can I help you Ms. Gilmore?" a friendly looking man with a name badge that said Ian, approached her.

"I'm not sure," she said honestly.

"Well, what are you looking for?"

Rory glanced back at the coats, then at Ian. "I'd like to get one of these trench coats for my husband, but I'm ashamed to say that I don't know what size he wears."

Ian looked at her and smiled. "Don't worry Ms. Gilmore, we'll get you all sorted out." He turned towards the back of the room, "Hey Clayton, what size would you guess that Tristan DuGrey is?" he called out.

A head popped out from behind a wall, "Tristan DuGrey?"

Ian nodded, and Clayton came rushing out from where ever he was. "Well, based on the recent press photos I've seen, I'd wager he's a 36 Long."

"If it's the wrong size, can I bring it back?" Rory asked.

"If it's the wrong size, I'll give you the right size for free," Clayton said enthusiastically.

Rory smiled at him. "You must be pretty confident then, because that's an $1800 coat."

"I'm pretty good at my job."

"I'll take it then."

Ian went in the back to get the size she needed, and Rory continued to look around.

"Can I help you pick out anything else?" Clayton asked eagerly.

"Thanks, but I think the hat, scarf and coat are enough for now," she said politely.

Ian came out of the back with a garment bag and took it to the front counter. Rory followed behind him with the hat and scarf. The sales associate rang up her new purchases and put the hat into a hat box. "Are you done for the day?" she asked as Rory slid her American Express card through the machine.

"Yep, I've got to get to another appointment," she said. Besides, she'd spent several thousand dollars in the store already today.

Ian grabbed the garment bags containing the coats and Rory took the shopping bags containing the other items she'd purchased and the hat box. She was grateful that the sales associate had tucked her La Perla bag into one of the larger Burberry bags.

As soon as they stepped outside the valet went to retrieve her car. The nice thing about being famous was that she never had to give them the valet ticket, they recognized her and went to get her car regardless.

"What'd you buy?" one of the eagerly waiting members of the press shouted.

She raised an eyebrow at him, "Is that a rhetorical question? I bought clothes."

Some of the other paparazzi giggled, but he held his ground. "What specifically did you buy?"

"So you want a little show and tell?" Rory asked in return.

"Yeah!" Everyone else standing around started nodding eagerly.

She laughed and set down her bags. "How about if I show you guys the hat I bought."

Again everyone nodded eagerly.

Ian picked up the bags she set down so no one could try to get closer and look into them. Rory gave him a thankful smile and proceeded to open the hat box and take out the hat. She popped it on her head and then asked the press, "what do you think?" They snapped pictures as she grinned from under the brim of the hat that was slightly too large for you.

It was fun to listen to them flounder trying to compliment her on the hat that was obviously too large for her head. After a few moments, her car pulled up and she finally put them out of their misery. "Don't worry guys, it's for Tristan, not for me." The relief was palpable. There were several relieved sighs, and some chuckles, and a few mentions of how good Tristan would look in the hat. She took the hat off and put it back in box to go put it in the car, knowing she'd see pictures of herself in the hat in the tabloids tomorrow.

She tipped Ian as he loaded the bags into the car, and tipped the valet as he helped her into the car, waved goodbye to the press and made her way off of Rodeo Drive so she could put Marty's address in the GPS discreetly and make her way to her lunch date.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory pulled into Marty's driveway at 11:30, just on time for their lunch. She quickly glanced behind her as she got out of the car, and then headed to his door. She'd barely knocked once before he pulled the door open and quickly pulled her inside the house.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!" Marty said as he hugged her.

"I know!" she exclaimed. "It's only been a 10 days or so, but given how much we've seen each other lately, it seems like forever."

Rory slipped off her boots and padded into the familiar living room. "So where's the script I've just got to read?"

Marty handed her a large stack of paper bound together by a large binder clip. "Here you go. You start reading and I'll go pick up lunch."

"What are you getting?" she asked.

"Chinese."

"From Flying Dragon?"

"Is there anywhere else I would get Chinese from?" Marty asked in response.

Rory clapped her hands together like an excited child. "Yay!"

Marty left to go pick up the food and she started reading.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

"I'm back," Marty called an indeterminate amount of time later.

"Already?" Rory asked without looking up from the script.

Marty chuckled. "You must be really into that, I've been gone for almost an hour thanks to a screwup at the restaurant."

Rory glanced at her watch, he was right, it was almost 12:30.

"So what do you think?" he asked gesturing to the script in her lap.

"It's amazing. Sort of a 10 years later Breakfast Club," she said. Marty nodded at her characterization. "I want to play Ramona."

He laughed. "What makes you think I'd ever work with you again?"

Rory batted her eyelashes at him. "Because you love me, and you know I'd be perfect for the part."

"Actually I was thinking you would be good for Anastasia."

"I'm tired of playing the good girl. I want a chance to play something a little darker."

"How about if this script goes further than this room, I'll let you audition for whatever you want," Marty told her compliantly.

She nodded. "I guess that will work. But I think Tristan would be perfect for Joshua."

"Now you know I'd never work with Tristan again," Marty reminded her. "How are things going with Dirty DuGrey?" he asked, reminding her of one of their Molly's World nicknames for him.

Rory shook her head. "Don't call him that. We're together for the next year, and since you're one of my best friends, I need you to be supportive," she told him seriously.

"Okay," Marty conceded. "How are things going with Tristan?"

She smiled. "Better than I expected and worse than I expected at the same time."

"Is this because of those confusing feeling-things you mentioned the other night?" he asked, teasing her.

"Hey where's my lunch?" she asked to avoid answering his question. Usually Marty was her go-to guy for all things male, but for some reason, she wasn't ready to talk about it with him.

"It's in the dining room, do you want to bring the script so you can finish reading?"

"Yes please!" she hopped up with the script in her hand and headed for the dining room.

They dished up their plates and ate in relative silence as Rory continued to read. Occasionally, she'd chuckle and ask Marty a question about the script, but mainly, it was quiet.

"You know what I love about dining in?" Rory asked as she finished the script.

"What?"

"That I can eat as much as I want!" she answered as she piled another helping of fried rice onto her plate.

Marty laughed, and almost choked on the pot sticker he was eating. "So what do you think now that you've read the whole thing?"

"I still want to be Ramona. And I think Tristan would be good for Joshua."

"But Joshua's the nerd. If anything I would see Tristan as Marco, the jock that still thinks he's something special."

"This may come as a shock to you, it sure came as a shock to me, but Tristan's not an idiot. He's like me, just perpetually type-cast. Where I'm always the good girl, he's always cast as the aging frat guy."

"Well if this ever comes to the casting stage, I'll let Tristan audition for whatever he want. I probably won't cast him, but he can audition."

Rory frowned a little, "Well I guess that's a start."

"I'm surprised at you Rory. After all of these years of hating Tristan so much because of how he treated you, you've been very quick to forgive."

"Apparently things aren't always what they seem."

"Oh really? Care to explain?" Marty asked.

She shook her head. "Sorry Marty, it's not my story to tell."

Marty let it drop and soon they were discussing the crazy cast of Marty's most recent movie, laughing and talking like they always did. Right in the middle of telling a story, Rory's phone rang. She looked down at the display to see that it was Tristan.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan's day was going better than he expected. Aside from some mild ribbing from the director, the rest of his colleagues were offering him hearty felicitations on his recent nuptials. However, the general consensus was that everyone was bummed that Rory hadn't stuck around to watch them film. Those who hadn't met her yet, were very hopeful to do so, and had no other reason to cross paths with her.

The morning had been filled with shooting scenes in Jack's past. So Tristan was working with Maddie a lot, as well as the guy who played Jack's best friend, Charlie. Charlie and Jack had enlisted together and while Jack was in the hospital bed, Charlie was still out there in the foxhole.

It was just after lunch when they started to shoot the scene with Jack and Ruby and the barn. The plan was to run it though while the actors were dry to mark the scene, then drench them and actually film.

"And action!" the director shouted.

Tristan pulled Maddie through the door of the barn and into the frame.

"_We can wait out the storm in here." _ He said, pushing his still dry hair out of his face trying to use the same amount of effort it would take if the hair was wet.

"_Can't we wait out the whole war in here?" _Maddie was already wearing her dark wig and she gathered the hair to mock wringing it out.

"_Surely you know I want to Ruby. I hate the thought of leaving you here alone."_

"_Well I hate the thought of you leaving me alone. Why... I don't know how I'll go on my with life if anything happens to you Jack." _Maddie was being a bit more melodramatic than Tristan expected, but he wasn't the director.

"_Nothing's going to happen to me Ruby. I bet by the time I get there those Nazis will be all but defeated. I'll get a nice tour of Europe and then get to come home to you."_

"_You can't know that Jack. You just can't!" _Maddie beat her fists against Tristan's chest, which he wasn't expecting.

He gripped her face harder than he expected. While he was rehearsing with Rory it was a gentle caress, but now that didn't feel right. _"Yes I can baby. Yes I can. I will come home to you. You and me are going to have another 50 years together." _He was supposed to stroke away her tears, but they weren't there yet._ "Now it's our last night together before I ship off, you don't want to spend it cryin' do you?"_

Maddie sniffled even though she didn't have any tears, and leaned in closer to Tristan like she was supposed to so he could wrap his arms around her._ "No. I want to spend the night making sure you never forget me."_

"_I would never forget you, my love." _Tristan leaned in closing his eyes to kiss Maddie, and images of Rory flashed in his head. When their lips met, he expected the soft warm lips of his wife. Maddie's lips were firm, and sticky from the lipstick; and when she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, it was like kissing a fish.

Unable to control his actions, he jerked backwards.

"CUT!" the director yelled. "Tristan, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I think I just got caught off guard."

The director laughed. "The legendary Tristan DuGrey caught off guard by a kiss?"

Tristan blushed slightly. "I, uhm, I rehearsed this scene with Rory yesterday..." he trailed off, wanting to explain, but not at the same time.

The crew giggled at his admission. The director smiled. "All right, well we'll try it again. Maddie, where are the tears? Ruby is supposed to be sad that Jack is leaving, not mad, so don't hit Tristan next time."

"Got it," she said.

"We'll pick it up at '_Surely you know I want to Ruby.'"_

Tristan and Maddie took their places, and the director yelled ""Action!"

The lines went fine this time. It was a more emotional scene. Maddie brought the tears, and Tristan wiped them away. But when it came to the kiss, the same thing happened. He involuntarily winced and pulled away.

"CUT!" the director boomed. "DuGrey, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry," he said. He wasn't trying to screw it up. This wasn't like when he was younger and would continually screw up kissing scenes just to keep kissing the girl.

"I know you're a newlywed and all, but I also know you've kissed more than your share of girls before."

Tristan shook his head not knowing what to say.

"Let's take five," the director announced. "Go call your wife and see if she can help you get your head back in the game," he instructed Tristan in a joking tone.

Tristan strode off towards his dressing room to hear footsteps behind him immediately.

"What's going on Tris? We've kissed before and you've never had this issue," Maddie reminded him.

He sighed. "I don't know. The first time we kissed, when I closed my eyes I saw Rory, and so I was startled I think when I didn't feel her lips beneath mine. I'm not sure what happened the second time."

"Do you want to practice?" she asked trying to be helpful.

He shook his head. "No, but thanks. I think I'm going to go call Rory."

He continued into his dressing room and shut the door firmly behind him. He grabbed his cell phone off the makeup table and scrolled through the missed calls and texts. A missed call from his mother, and few texts from Danica and some of his friends. Nothing from Rory though.

Tristan thumbed through his contacts until he got to her, then hit dial as he flopped back onto the chaise lounge.

It rang once, twice, and then a third time. He was starting to worry that she wouldn't answer his call for some reason when he heard the line open. "Hello,_"_ she said in a breathy voice.

"Hey Molly," he replied trying to come across as nonchalant.

"What's going on?"

"Can't a guy just miss his wife?"

They both chuckled at his suggestion.

"So what is it really?" she asked.

He sighed, no longer sure that calling her was the right choice. "I don't know."

_Does your hubby miss you? _Tristan heard Marty teasing her in the background.

_Hush Marty!_ She must have covered the mouth piece, because her response was muffled.

Tristan cleared his throat to get her attention. "If now's not a good time..."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory stood up from the table and gave Marty a dirty glare. "Hold on a second Chad, I need to go somewhere a little more private." She stuck her tongue out at Marty and headed towards his powder room.

"I'm going to eat the rest of the potstickers!" Marty called after her.

She held up a single finger in his direction, but didn't say a word. She could hear his laughter though, so she knew he saw her gesture. She shut the door to the powder room and hopped up on the counter.

"What's up?" she asked, re-directing her attention to Tristan.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your lunch date," he said, she could hear a note of sarcasm in his voice.

She snorted in response. "No you're not. But you must really need something if you're actually calling me. Did you wrap early? Do I need to come get you now?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then what's going on?" Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth sometimes.

He sighed, "I..." he trailed off and stopped. She waited for him to continue. "How do you... how do you kiss someone professionally?"

She wanted to laugh, but she knew from the hesitation in his question that he was having a hard time asking her. "You've kissed lots of girls professionally," she reminded him.

Tristan groaned. "I know. But for some reason, it's different today."

That omission startled Rory into momentary silence.

"Rory, are you still there?" he asked.

She shook her head to bring her mind back to the present. "Of course I am. Tell me what happened." She leaned back against the mirror and waited for him to tell his story.

"So today has been great so far. Everyone has been offering heartfelt congratulations on our marriage, and the only person to give me even the tiniest bit of grief was the director. I've been hitting all my marks, my timing has been spot on..."

"That's great Tristan!" she told him honestly. Those good days could be hard to come by in their chosen profession. "Then what?"

"We started marking the barn seen."

She waited for him to continue.

"We ran the lines dry, and the first time Maddie brought some anger to Ruby, so she hit me and I gripped her face a little tightly, But when I closed my eyes to kiss her... I don't know..." he lowered his voice, "it was like kissing a dead fish."

Rory bust out laughing, she couldn't help it.

"It's not funny!" he exclaimed. "I couldn't help it, I reacted."

She tried to stifle her giggles but it wasn't completely successful. "I'm sorry," she choked out between the giggles. "What did you do?"

"I did the only thing I could think of, I told them I'd rehearsed the scene with you, and was surprised when it wasn't your lips. And that worked well enough to get a second take, but then the same thing happened."

"I'm sorry," she said again as she continued to fight with fits of giggles.

"Rory! What do I do? I don't want to appear to be difficult, but I'm not sure I can do this!"

"Come on Tristan," she started, having finally regained her composure, "You've kissed hundreds of girls. They can't all have been amazing kissers."

"I don't remember a bad one. I'm sure you've had your share of bad kisses, though, how did you do it?"

She was pretty sure he was referring to their Molly's World kiss. Now it was her turn to sigh. "It depends on the situation."

"That doesn't help," he growled.

"Give me a minute to collect my thoughts and maybe I can explain!" she snapped back.

"Fine."

They sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. "I had a couple of techniques. If I liked the guy, but he was a bad kisser, I would ask for a break, then rehearse the scene with him in private hoping it was just nerves and we could work through it."

"And if you hated the guy?" Tristan asked.

"You don't hate Maddie," Rory reminded him.

"I know, but I don't want to practice with her either."

Rory smiled. She was pretty sure that was a first for him. "When I didn't like the guy I focused on the character. I tried to put as much of myself into the shoes of the character as I could. I shoved all of Rory's thoughts and feelings out of the way and let the character take over."

"is that what you did when Chad and Molly kissed?" he asked.

"No," she admitted in a soft voice. "But that's where the inspiration came from."

"I'm sorry," Tristan said again.

She shrugged even though he couldn't see her, not knowing what to say. "So I'll be there by 4:00 to pick you up," she finally said.

"That's great," he replied vacantly. "Thanks for your help Molly."

"Any time Chad." She disconnected the call and went back to the dining room, hoping Marty hadn't really eaten the last of the potsticker.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan looked at the phone in his hand and berated himself for his acts as a teenager once again. He knew she regretted telling him. He could see it the instant the words were out of her mouth. It had been twelve years since Chad and Molly kissed, there was nothing to be done to take his actions back now, they both knew it. But for some reason he couldn't let it go.

He shook off the residual guilt and put his phone away, determined to spend the next few minutes becoming Jack. Jack was in love with Ruby. Jack probably liked Ruby's fish-like kisses.

"Are you ready?" Maddie called from the outside of his door.

Tristan exhaled deeply and opened the door. "Come on Ruby, we've got a scene to shoot."

He practically pulled Maddie down the hallway to get back to the set.

"Are you ready now_ Tristan_?" the director asked with a slight sneer.

"Yes sir!" Tristan answered with Jack's military trained crispness. "Hose me down!"

"Tristan!" Maddie exclaimed in objection.

He shook is head. "Jack and Ruby were drenched when this happened, we might as well be drenched too."

As the costume mistresses began the process of getting Jack and Ruby artfully drenched, Tristan took a moment to appreciate his project. He was grateful the project wasn't another low budget film. In the last film he worked on, when his character needed to be wet, someone just dumped a bucket of water on him. If he was lucky, it was room temperature, but more often than not it was icy cold. Today he was being misted with warm water, and the temperature on the set had been cranked up so they, mainly Maddie, wouldn't be visibly cold while shooting.

Once they were both sufficiently drenched, they took their marks. "Tristan if you make me spend an hour in sopping wet clothes while you try to get this right, I will make you pay," Maddie hissed.

"I know what I'm doing."

"And ACTION!" the director called.

Tristan focused on being Jack. The words just flowed from him as though they were his own.

Finally, Ruby said, _"No. I want to spend the night making sure you never forget me." _

"_I would never forget you, my love." _He was focused on being Jack that he was excited to lean in and kiss her. Their lips met and...

"Cut!" came the yell. Tristan backed away and Maddie panted. The director continued, "Perfect! Whatever you did, you fixed it."

Maddie continued to pant. "Are you okay Mads?" Tristan asked.

"Oh, fine," she answered as she glanced around the room distractedly. "Rory's one lucky girl."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory spent the rest of her afternoon with Marty focusing on his latest screenplay. She would purposefully dodge any question that came up about Tristan, not caring if it was starting to irritate her best friend.

"Why won't you talk about married life?" Marty finally asked when she'd ignored his last several snide remarks directed at her marriage.

She looked down at her hands, trying to find an answer to the very direct question. Finally she spoke, "because I'm confused."

Marty just looked at her, waiting for her to say something else.

"I don't know how to feel about Tristan."

"Do you..._love_ him?" Marty asked her with great trepidation.

Rory scoffed in response. "No." They were silent for a bit. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Okay," he replied apologetically.

"I just... I've spent so many years hating him that I don't quite know how to not hate him. You accused me earlier of being too quick to forgive, but I feel like I'm not quick to forgive at all. Part of me wants to trust him, I mean I've changed, so why can't he have changed too? But part of me feels like I'm going to get knocked on my ass as soon as I let my guard down."

Marty moved close to her and pulled her into a hug. "You've got to trust yourself. You'll figure it out, whatever it is."

She hugged him back. "Thanks."

Her phone chimed, and she glanced down at it. It was the alarm she set for 3:00 so she wouldn't forget to go pick up Tristan.

"Time to go?" Marty asked.

Rory nodded. "But before I go, my dad is coming into town next weekend, you'll come for dinner on Saturday night, right?"

He groaned in response. "Really?"

"What? You like my dad!"

"That might be true, but do you really think I want to spend the evening trying to fake nice with Tristan?"

She grinned at him, "no, but you'll do it anyhow because you love me, and you want me to be happy."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll be there. Just let me know what time, and I'll make sure to be there with booze."

"Thanks!" Rory hugged him one more time then headed out to go get Tristan.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Filming continued to go smoothly. He was so caught up in what he was doing that he didn't notice Rory's arrival until he saw one of his fellow cast mates waving at her.

"Oi Trevor, what are you doing?" the director asked as he looked around the room. "Oh, hello Ms. Gilmore, lovely to see you."

"Hi," Rory said politely. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"That's okay. We're about due to take a fiver anyhow. Take five!" he bellowed.

Tristan set down the prop gun in his hand and made his way quickly to Rory's side, trying to ensure everyone saw the newlywed's sense of urgency.

"Hey solider," she said with a giggle when he reached her side.

He pulled her in close and grazed her lips with a kiss, then slid his mouth to her ear, "Thanks for the tips. The character focus helped immensely."

"So you don't have to tell Maddie she kisses like a dead fish?" Rory whispered back.

For some reason he couldn't explain, Tristan couldn't stop himself from tickling her for that comment. "That's it, you're going to get it." She playfully shrieked as his fingers ran across her ribcage.

"Tristan!"

He picked her up and flung her over his shoulder, then headed in the direction of his dressing room.

The cast and crew that had been standing around watching their interaction laughed as Tristan carried Rory away.

"You're here early," he said after he'd closed the door to his dressing room and set her down.

She shrugged. "It took less time to get here from Marty's than I thought."

"So how was your lunch?"

"Amazing," she said. "Marty's newest screen play is fantastic. It's like a 10 years later Breakfast Club. I know it's going to be a hit."

"That's great," he replied dryly.

"It is. I made him promise that we could both audition when he gets the financial backing together."

Tristan was startled by this. "Really? Both of us?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah. I think you'd be great in one of the roles."

He snorted. "Based on what?"

"Gut instinct."

"Come on Rory," he trailed off.

"If you don't want to audition, you don't have to. He didn't promise parts or anything, but I think this project could be the one that allows me to show the world I'm not just the good girl next door."

"And there's an aging frat boy role in it for me?" he asked sarcastically.

She shook her head. "There is, but that's not the roll I pictured you in when I read the script."

"It's not?" he was surprised again.

"You know, I get really frustrated because I'm always typecast. I was making a concerted effort not to do that to you."

"Thank you," he said with a genuine smile.

She smiled in return. "So how much longer do you have here?"

"The girl who was supposed to play the nurse broke her arm last weekend apparently, so she has to be recast. After this one scene, I should be done."

"Okay great. Then I'll watch you shoot your last scene, and then we can head home."

"You mean we don't have to go out tonight?" he asked eagerly.

"Well..." she started.

"Rory, what did you do?"

"Nothing," she responded innocently. "I just... I thought maybe we could go to the drive in tonight. See a second run movie. Eat popcorn in the car. Have pictures of us snapped as we cuddle in the line for concessions."

"Really?"

"We don't have to."

Tristan sighed. "Actually, a drive in sounds like fun. I can't tell you the last time I went to the drive in. Can we make out in the car?"

She grinned. "Maybe."

"Okay."

"DUGREY! Break's up!" a voice bellowed from down the hall.

"I guess you'd better get back to the set," Rory said.

"I guess I better," he replied, but didn't make an effort to move towards the door.

After they stood there for a few moments, Rory finally asked, "What? Do I have something on me?" She started checking out her outfit.

Tristan shook his head and stepped closer to her. "Don't take this the wrong way, okay?"

"Wha-" Before she could finish asking, his lips had covered hers. Her arms went around him without much thought. He deepened the kiss when he realized that she wasn't going to push him away.

Finally he heard his name being called a second time and stepped away from her to break their kiss. "So much better," he said. "Thank you."

He headed back towards the set leaving Rory standing in his dressing room, trying to catch her breath.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the delay, I've had the first half of this chapter written for ages, but real life got in the way.<strong>

**As usual, I don't own anything. But I did check out both Burberry and La Perla and the stuff I mention for Rory and Tristan is real if you want to try and find it.**

**And thank you so much for all of your input on the last chapter, I think I'm going to up the rating to M and include the sexy bits... (that seems to be what the majority would prefer). You might want to add an alert if you haven't already so you get notified when the first chapter goes up with an M rating.**

**I look forward to any and all feed back you have for me!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**S**


	28. Chapter 28

Rory arrived at the set just in time to hear the director shout "ACTION." She settled back into the captains chair that said DuGrey on the back and watched the scene unfold. Tristan was really in character. She would totally believe that he was a solider in World War II. Sometimes these period pieces forgot themselves. The settings were period, and the costumes were period, but the language was contemporary. This was not the case here. She was completely enraptured by the scene before her, so much so that when the director called "CUT", she was startled.

"Good work everyone, that's a wrap!"

Tristan bounded off the stage towards Rory, "so what did you think?"

"It was great!" she said honestly. "I can't wait to see the rest of it."

He smiled a little at her compliment. "Thanks!"

"Is production going to be delayed while you find a new nurse?" she asked.

"That's a good question," he said, as he turned his head to to look for something. "Hey Jerry, are we going to get a couple days off while you recast Eva the nurse?"

The director came over to where they were standing to answer the question. "Possibly a couple days. She's in most of the episodes, so we can't finish an episode until she's been cast."

"Is it a big part?" Rory asked curiously.

Jerry shook his head. "Not really, but it's an important part so we can't just cut it, or make it a non-speaking part. Why? Are you interested in the part?" His tone was very skeptical, and his eyes held a look of disbelief.

Now it was Rory's turn to shrug. "I don't want to horn in on Tristan's project or anything, but if the scenes could be shot out quickly, before my next project starts, I might be willing to consider it."

"Really?" both Jerry and Tristan replied in unison.

"It would depend on the details, and I'd have to discuss it with my husband first," she said with a smile.

"Well I'll give you the details, and you two can discuss it and get back to me on Monday," Jerry told them.

"That works," Rory answered.

"Pay is scale, it would probably take three weeks to shoot all of your scenes, and still get some other filming done too. It's a mini series, not an episodic serial so you wouldn't have to worry about getting picked up for another season."

"Well, before I consider it, you'd have to agree to the following: you won't enlarge the role of Eva, you won't use shots of me or my name in the promos, and I'd only be credited in the end credits. I would do this to help out, and to work with Tristan, not to bump any of the other actors out of their billing."

The director scowled and she realized she might have pushed just a little bit too hard. But these people worked hard, and didn't need to lose out because she had the time in her schedule to pick up the roll and help out her husband.

"I can deal with that," Jerry said grumpily.

"Also, you should know that her French accent is crap," Tristan added with a grin.

"Tristan!" she exclaimed as she smacked him on the arm.

"What? It is." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the head. "Sometimes the truth hurts."

She scowled at him and Jerry laughed. "I can deal with the crappy French accent too, maybe we'll make the nurse American instead."

"We'll definitely discuss it then," Rory said with a grin.

Jerry nodded and walked off towards the offices, and Tristan grabbed Rory's hand and pulled her towards the dressing room.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked when they were both inside the room and he had shut the door.

"If you don't want me to, you can say so. That's why I said I had to discuss it with you first. This is your job, and I don't want to make it uncomfortable for you. Like I told Jerry, I think it would be fun to work with you again now, and I'm bored since my production is stalled."

Tristan thought about it as he changed out of his costume and put his jeans and tee shirt back on.

"Why don't you want to have credit for it? Most big name actors would insist they get above the titles credit."

She shrugged. "I know this is going to sound callus, but I don't need it." Tristan stared at her. "What I mean is, I don't need the project, and I don't need the money. I want to do this to help you out. I don't want to steal anyones thunder, and I don't want push anyone out of the limelight."

"Really?" he asked incredulously. "That's so... un-Hollywood."

"I really am just bored. Since my vacation was cut short, and we can't take an extended honeymoon because of your work, I might as well take on the project."

He thought about it for a moment. "Can I think about this a little more?"

"Of course. I told Jerry we'd let him know on Monday, so you have until then."

"Thanks," he said with a smile.

"Any time. Now let's get out of here. We should go home, have some dinner, grab the snacks and get to the drive in," she said with a saucy wink.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

The ride home was pretty quiet. Tristan was busy contemplating Rory's offer, and Rory appeared to be engrossed in something on her phone. Was his wife really this altruistic, or was he missing the hidden agenda? Would this turn into Molly's World all over again, where everyone loved her and he couldn't do anything right?

"The closest drive in is playing classics right now," Rory said, interrupting his train of thought.

"How many drive in theaters are near us? And what do you mean classics?"

Rory held up her phone to show him a map. "There are three drive in theaters in a 10 mile radius of the house. The closest one is 3 miles away, and tonight the movie is Breakfast at Tiffany's."

He nodded, mulling over the information she provided. 'What else is playing?"

"Uhmmm," she stalled as she browsed. "It looks like one of them is playing a double header, Planes and Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters, and the other one is playing Captain Phillips."

"So our choices are a classic, a kiddie double header, or 'Somalian pirates we'?"

Rory giggled. "Yes, and I can't believe you made a South Park reference!"

He smiled at her, grateful that she picked up his reference, otherwise he would have come across as an ass. "Do you have a preference?"

"Honestly, I'd rather see either the double header, or Breakfast at Tiffany's. I wouldn't feel so bad if we missed part of those," she added with a wink.

"Breakfast at Tiffany's it is," he exclaimed.

"Have you seen it before?" she asked.

"Of course. But it's been a while."

Rory chuckled. "Sure."

"What? I'd make a great Paul Varjak," he told her confidently.

She thought about it for a moment. "You would."

"And you'd make a good Holly Golightly. Hey, do we have a Halloween party to go to this year?"

"Maybe," she admitted with a laugh.

Tristan smiled. "We're totally going as Holly and Paul."

The silence resumed, and he went back to thinking about whether he wanted Rory to work on his show.

Before he even realized it, he'd pulled into the driveway.

"You were pretty quiet on the way home, is everything all right?" Rory asked as they entered the house from the garage.

He shrugged. "Everything's fine. Just thinking about work."

She shook her head. "Don't stress out about it Tristan. If you don't want me to take the job, just say so. My feelings won't be hurt."

"I'm still thinking about it."

"Okay." She turned back towards the garage.

"Where are you going?"

"To get my purchases," she called over her shoulder.

He waited for her to come back into the room carrying all of the bags from Burberry before he spoke again. "Did you buy anything for me?"

"Yes. But since you didn't help me bring the bags in, I think I might take yours back."

"Rory!" he whined.

She walked over to the couch where he'd taken a seat, and dropped the hat box on the coffee table. She laid the garment bags over the back of the chair and unzipped the top one to peek inside it. She then picked up the bottom one and put on the couch. "These are for you."

He opened the garment bag first, not wanting to know what kind of hat she picked for him. He wasn't really a hat guy. The zipper slid down easily and he could see the classic khaki color that Burberry was famous for. "Is this the new trench coat?" he asked eagerly. She nodded, and he burst into laughter. "This is PERFECT for my Halloween costume! What made you buy this for me? Were you planning this already?"

"Of course not. I was shopping this morning and I thought it would look funny if I didn't buy anything for my new husband. That's all."

He took the coat out of the bag and stood up to try it on. "it's a perfect fit. How did you know?" his tone was suspicious.

"Damn it."

"Why damn it?"

"One of the sales guys told me your size. If he'd been wrong, I would have gotten to take this back and he would have given me the right size for free."

Tristan laughed. It was a deep laugh from his belly, that he didn't think he had any more. Some random sales guy knew his size. He'd never been in Burberry before. He didn't have anything against the clothes, but they were a bit flashy for him. "What about the hat box?"

"You probably won't like that. I just thought it was fun," Rory told him honestly. "If you want to wait until tomorrow, you won't even have to open the box."

He raised an eyebrow at her, not understanding what she was hinting at.

"The paparazzi were there when I left, and wanted to know what I bought. Since I didn't want to show them anything I bought for myself, I modeled your hat for them. I'm sure there'll be pictures in the tabs tomorrow."

"I'm going to have to wear it at least once now, aren't I?"

"Sorry."

He opened the box to find a bright red cap. "Where the heck am I going to where this?"

"I don't know. It just looked like fun to me. Maybe next time we go to the pier?"

Tristan groaned. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Well excuse me for trying to do something nice," Rory snapped. She picked up the rest of the things she bought, and made her way upstairs.

"Rory, wait!" he called after her. He waited for a response, but only heard the slam of the door.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

She slammed the door to her room and leaned against it, dropping her bags on the ground next to her. Why was she so upset that he didn't like the stupid hat? She bought him something because she had to, where on earth did she get the idea that he might actually like, or appreciate, something she bought him. She sighed and grabbed her bags again, dragging them over to the bed.

She flopped down on the bed and pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time. It was barely past 5:00. The movie didn't start until 8:30, drive-ins have to wait for it to get dark and all. At a loss for what to do, she pushed herself off the bed and went about hanging up her new clothes, and putting her new lingerie in the drawer. The box with Tristan's scarf was just left on the bed. She'd figure out what to do with that later.

Rory was just settling back onto the bed with a book when she heard a tap on the door.

"Yeah?" she answered.

The knob turned and Tristan's head appeared in the room.

"What?"

"Can I come in?" he asked hesitantly.

She shrugged. "It's your house. Well, technically..." she trailed off as he stepped into the room.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Apparently in my years of societal exile I've gone a bit feral. My manners were first to go."

Rory couldn't help it, she giggled at his description of himself. "I'm sorry," she replied. "I reacted poorly."

"The hat's not really that bad. I mean I wouldn't have picked it for myself, but I probably would wear it."

She grabbed the scarf box sitting next to her and handed it to him. "This is the last bit."

"I'll try to react better," he said as he took the box from her. He opened the lid and pulled out the scarf. "This will be perfect for this winter."

Rory stood up and patted Tristan's cheek. "Much better reaction."

"So what's the plan for tonight?" he asked as he draped the scarf around his neck. "The movie starts at 8:30 right?"

"Yeah. We should probably get there around 8:00 so we have time to be seen in the concession lines and get ourselves situated in the car."

"Okay. Well it looks like Amanda left us fajitas for dinner. All we have to do is cook the meat and everything else is done."

Rory frowned, she had no idea how to cook meat.

"Don't worry, I'll cook the meat. You can dump the toppings into bowls so we can set them out like a buffet to assemble the fajitas."

"Okay. I can manage that. When are you planning on making dinner?"

He thought about it for a second. "How about 6:30? That way there's time to get ready for the movie after, and we'll have room for popcorn."

"Can we bring the rest of the junk food from last night?" she asked hopefully.

"The car's got tinted windows so I don't see why not."

A blush crept up her face. She couldn't believe he'd thought of that. "I'll see you at 6:30 then," she said.

"Okay." Tristan left the room and Rory flopped back down on the bed.

She stared at the ceiling and her mind wandered. When she was dating Dean, he was just a regular guy. She met him on a movie set, but he wasn't in the film, he was part of the set design crew. It was his job to create the sets, and make changes quickly when the finished product didn't match the director's vision. Dean was beautiful, and he wasn't an idiot, but he didn't really understand the celebrity issues. He loved going out and being seen with her, but he never gave much thought to anything in advance. It didn't matter to him if he accidentally marked her while they were making love. And in turn, it didn't matter to him if she marked him in return.

Logan on the other hand, was pretty much the exact opposite of Dean. Sure he was beautiful too, but where Dean did things with careless abandon, Logan never did anything without thinking it completely through. They couldn't go for burgers if Rory was craving a burger, because someone might snap a picture and there'd be a phone call from an agent about the negative backlash a burger somehow created.

Tristan seemed to be a balance of the two. He understood celebrity more than Dean ever could, but he also didn't care anymore. No matter what happened in their lives, Rory couldn't imagine that there would come a point when Logan didn't care anymore. He could win three Oscars, and he'd still work just as hard to try and maintain his perfect image. Whereas most celebrities had lives outside of the press, that they worked hard to keep private, Logan wasn't like that. He'd be perfectly happy if his life was a reality show. Tristan however, could balance the duality. He knew the importance of image just as much as the importance of being true to oneself. Maybe he would teach her to find that balance in her own life.

She waved her hand in front of her face, as if to literally brush away the thoughts, and returned her attention to the novel had picked up to read.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

He looked at his watch after he got the fajita meat into the pan. It was just after 6:30, and he found himself alone in the kitchen preparing dinner. "Rory!" Tristan hollered up the stairs.

After a moment he heard the door open and she hollered back, "Yeah?"

"Are you coming to help with dinner or not?"

She sighed loudly enough that he could hear it on the first floor. "Just a sec, I got caught up in my book."

Tristan stirred the meat, and then set about pulling all of the toppings out of the fridge. He'd just set the last of them on the counter when Rory stepped into the kitchen.

"Okay, so what do we have to put on fajitas?" she asked brightly.

He gestured to the containers, then said, "the bowls are in the cupboard next to the sink." He turned his attention back to the stove, and heard the soft click of the bowls being set on the counter.

"What do I do with the cheese?" she asked quietly.

"You grate it," he replied dryly. "What else would you do with it?"

"I don't know, chop it? Why doesn't Amanda just buy the pre-shredded stuff?"

"The stuff from the block tastes better. Plus there's more variety in blocks."

She nodded, and started opening cupboards trying to find the cheese grater.

"It's on the bottom shelf in the pantry," he told her before she could ask him.

"Thanks."

The salsa, avocado, onions, olives, cheese, and sour cream, were put out in bowls, and Rory put them in a line in the middle of the island, so they could get to them from the barstools on the other side.

"Do you want to grab a couple of Coronas from the fridge? Or would you rather have a margarita?" Tristan asked as he pulled the warmed tortillas out of the oven, and found a bowl to put the fajita meat in.

"Beer is fine." She opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles, along with a small Tupperware container with some lime slices. "Amanda thinks of everything doesn't she?"

"She really does plan for meals, not just a main dish," Tristan admitted as he set the tortillas and meat in the buffet line that Rory had prepared. "Here, hand me those and I'll open them."

Rory handed him the bottles of beer and slid onto her barstool. She opened the foil surrounding the tortillas and began to make herself a couple of small fajitas. She'd just gotten the first one made when Tristan returned and set the beers on the counter too.

"Lime please," he said. She nudged the container towards him with her wrist and continued putting toppings on her second fajita. He took a lime from the container, and wedged it into his beer bottle, licking the remaining juice off his finger.

The combination of the salt from his skin and the lime juice gave him an instant flashback to the tequila shots in the bar. Maybe this was a bad idea. To distract himself he grabbed Rory's beer bottle and shoved a lime into her too. "There." He set the bottle in front of her plate.

"Thanks." She grabbed the beer and took a swig. "Mmm, lime." Tristan watched as she turned a faint shade of pink.

"What?" he asked.

"Noth-nothing," she stuttered.

He rested a hand on her shoulder and leaned into her. "Did you just have a flash of last night?" he whispered.

She turned pinker and looked down at her food, ignoring his question.

Instead of pushing her for an answer, he leaned in just a little bit closer, and breathed "I did," into her ear.

She bit her lip and cleared her throat. "So we should probably leave around 7:45 to get to the theater by 8:00. I'm pretty sure it won't be too busy."

Tristan let his hand drop from her shoulder and turned his focus to the food in front of him.

"That sounds fine. We should have enough time to eat and gather the things we need to make the movie more comfortable."

"Like what?" Rory asked around the mouthful of fajita she had just taken.

He shrugged. "You know, snacks and beverages and things like that." He fully intended to grab a blanket and some pillows to make things more relaxing.

'Okay." They fell back into silence while they ate.

"So tell me more about Marty's screenplay," he said when the silence finally got to him. And she was off and running. She told him about the premise and the characters, and the part she wanted and the part she thought he should have, and what made it pure genius. She talked through the rest of dinner and all the way through cleaning up the kitchen.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

It was 7:15 when the last dish was loaded into the dishwasher.

"Are you wearing that to the theater?" she asked, abruptly changing the topic from Marty's screenplay to the move they were planning to see.

"Why wouldn't I?" Tristan asked. He was in jeans and tee shirt. He didn't look bad by any means, but it might be just a touch too causal for the press.

She scrunched her nose slightly. "You're right. I'm just..."

"worried about the press?" he finished.

"Yes. I know, I shouldn't be. But it seems like the simplest things are misconstrued these days."

"How about if I put a button down shirt on?" he suggested.

Rory nodded. "Okay. I'll change too. Heaven forbid be seen out twice in the same outfit," she grumbled as she headed upstairs.

She entered her room and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what to wear. She wanted something comfortable enough to wear sitting in the car for a few hours, but also cute enough that she wouldn't get funny looks while waiting in line for popcorn. Finally she figured it out, she headed towards the dress boxes, and opened one after another until she found the dress she wanted. It was cotton wrap dress. It was black with cap sleeves, a vee neck, and a red tie ribbon round the waist. The skirt was flow-y and came just past her knees. It was a little Donna Reed maybe, but it would be perfect with a pair of peep toed heels that she could kick off in the car, and it seemed very fitting for the drive in.

At just after 7:30, she made her way downstairs with the red shoes in her hand. She set them by the door then went into the kitchen to collect the junk from the pantry. She had grabbed one of her larger shoulder bags, and began to load the junk food into the bag. After the last bit (a box of redvines) was tucked in, she called for Tristan, "Are you ready to go?"

"Coming!" he replied.

She made her way to the door with her bag, and was slipping into her shoes by the time he arrived.

"You look nice," he said as he approached.

"Thanks." She stood up straight and fixed her dress before looking at him. He looked just like he had the night in Atlantic City. Designer jeans and a french cuff button down shirt, but this one was white with thin black pinstripes.

"Do you think I should wear my new red hat?" he asked, gesturing to her red shoes.

She chuckled. "No, that might be a little too much. But thanks for being willing to wear it."

They headed into the garage, and Rory opened the door to the back seat to slide her bag back there. "Hey, there are pillows and a blanket back here!"

"You plan your way, I'll plan mine," Tristan retorted from the drivers seat.

She climbed into the passenger seat, and he reversed out of the garage.

"So when is the last time you were at a drive in?" she asked.

His brow furrowed, "I don't know. I know I've been to one, but I can't remember when. Maybe as a teenager? You?"

"I've never been to a drive in. I always wanted to go, but my teenage years weren't exactly normal, and my life after that, well... Dean would have taken me, had the idea come to either of us... but I guess it just never did."

Tristan smiled, but before Rory could find out what caused the smile her phone rang. She fished it out of her bag. _Logan Huntzberger._ She pressed the ignore button, and set the phone in the compartment in the door.

"Logan," she groaned, before Tristan could even ask.

"What is his deal?" Tristan asked in response.

She shrugged, "Hell if I know. Like I said last night, I hadn't spoken to him since we broke up."

"It's really annoying."

"You're telling me." The chime on her phone indicated that Logan had left a voicemail.

"What does he want?"

She picked the phone back up and pushed the button play his voicemail. _"Hey Ace, I saw the paper this morning and I just wanted to see how you were doing. DuGrey has always been a jerk, so I'm not surprised that he kept you from talking to more than just me last night. I hope you're okay, but if you need anything don't hesitate to call me. I'll do whatever I can to help."_

Rory couldn't help but laugh. "What a jackass. And where does he get off calling you a jerk? You'd never met in person before last night!"

"Thank you for stopping me from punching him. You're right, it would have just made things worse."

"You bet."

He pulled the car into the entrance line at the drive in, and cleared his throat. "Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"I know we're only temporary and all, but please do me one favor," he started quietly.

She looked over at him, "what's that?"

"When we're done, please don't go running to him. Go to anyone else, but don't go back to Huntzberger."

Rory was stunned. Too many thoughts crossed her mind at once. Her first thought was that their time wouldn't be done, but just as quickly as that thought came, it left. Then she wanted to tell him that it was none of his business who she ended up with when their time was up. Admittedly, as much trouble as Logan had caused in the last week alone, Tristan's counsel was wise. "Okay," she finally said. "It's a year away anyhow, I'm sure by then it won't be a big deal."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan pulled up to the ticket booth and rolled down his window.

"How many?" the guy asked without even looking up.

"Two," Tristan said.

"That'll be eighteen dollars." The guy stretched out his hand for payment, and finally looked at Tristan and Rory.

Tristan put his credit card in the guy's hand with a smile. "Thanks."

"Uh, uh, Mr. DuGrey, Ms. Gilmore, this is on the house," he said handing Tristan's card back instantly, along with a slip of paper to put in the dash as proof of payment. "Just pull into any of the spots. I'd recommend the ones towards the back."

"Thank you!" Rory cooed as she leaned across Tristan.

Tristan pulled forward not letting the guy make conversation with Rory, or potentially get a peek down her dress. "You didn't have to be rude," Rory told him.

"I wasn't being rude, I was making it so some random guy wouldn't ogle my wife."

"Oh."

He took in the parking lot. There were plenty of cars there, but the place wasn't packed. There was decent line started at the concession stand, and it was trimmed in neon, so he didn't want to park too close. Finally he ended up picking a spot towards the back, and as far away from the concession stand as he could get. He pulled into the spot, and backed up to adjust the angle slightly. "Should we go get concessions?" he asked as he turned off the car.

"Sure." Rory opened the door and stepped out on the passengers side, She made her way around the front end of the car to meet Tristan.

He took her hand and together they walked over to the concession stand. The line was decently long, but there were several windows open so it moved quickly.

"What do you want?" he asked as they stared at the menu.

"Definitely some popcorn, and probably a soda, what about you?" At the sound of Rory's voice the people in front of them began turning around to look at them.

"Oh my gosh!" the woman in front of them squealed. "It's Rory Gilmore!" This made even more people stop what they were doing and look in the direction of the sound.

"Hi," Rory said timidly.

"What are you doing here?" someone asked her.

She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. "Seeing a movie with my husband, what about you?"

"Duh," someone else said, and smacked the first person on the shoulder for being an idiot.

People started to clamor towards them, and Tristan felt Rory inch closer to him. He dropped her hand and wrapped that arm around her instead. Soon the smartphones started flashing, and people started taking pictures along with asking questions.

"Hey guys," Tristan said loudly, "we're just here to have a relaxing Friday night and see a movie, same as all of you." People grumbled but the questions seemed to taper off. "Yeah, I know, celebrities are just people too. We all have our boring days." That got a chuckle out of the remaining people, and by the time Rory and Tristan got to the front of the line to order, it was just like they were a normal couple at the movies. Tristan ordered a large popcorn, a soda for Rory and a bottle of water for himself. "Anything else?"

Rory shook her head. "Nope, I think we're good."

He let her lead the way back to the car so he could keep an eye out for crazy fans that may try and approach her, but they made it back to the car safely. Rory headed around the front of the car and he called out to stop her.

"What?" she asked.

"I thought we could watch from the backseat so we could snuggle," he said with a suggestive eyebrow gesture. He'd purposefully said it loud enough for anyone around them to hear.

"Okay." She returned to the drivers side of the car and waited for Tristan to fold the front seats forward so their view wouldn't be blocked, and move the pillows and blanket so she could slide in. He slid in next to her and shut the door.

"The rear windows have a darker tint," he told her once the doors were closed. "This way no one will see the junk food."

"Oh. Good thinking," she said, as she scooted further towards the passenger side.

Tristan frowned and looked at her. "You sound disappointed."

She shrugged. "I shouldn't be. You have sound logic for the decision."

"But..."

"No, it's fine."

He reached out and pulled her towards him. "That doesn't mean the snuggling thing isn't true."

She smiled, and he could feel her stop resisting his tug. He tossed her a pillow and she tucked it behind her. She grabbed the blanket and shook it out over them. The popcorn and the soda were on the console between the front seats. Easy access for both of them.

"Oh no, how do we hear the sound?" Rory asked.

A look up at the screen indicated that the premovie cartoon had started. Tristan leaned forward and put the keys in the ignition and turned the key one click, just enough to make the radio go on. He flicked the radio stations to the am dial, and hit the seek button, waiting for something to come in loud and clear. Sure enough at AM 850 the sound from the cartoon filled the car. "There you go," he reassured Rory as he settled back into his seat.

He draped an arm across the back of the bench seat, and she moved in closer to him. He let his hand fall down from the seat, and land on her shoulder. She reached forward to bring the popcorn into their laps, and then snuggled back in to watch the film.

The movie started, and while it didn't take long for Tristan to get bored, Rory was instantly immersed in it. He watched her as she munched on popcorn and sipped from her soda, giggling in all the funny spots.

About 30 minutes into the film Tristan decided to make his move. She was so cute, he just couldn't resist kissing her. She was still curled into him, so he backed up a bit, and at the loss of his heat, she turned her head to look at him. He took his free hand and cupped her face, angling it up so he could kiss her.

At first she pulled away startled, and he froze, waiting for her to react. Would she yell at him? Would she slap him? But after a moment, she just repositioned her self and resumed kissing him. He felt her tongue tentatively brush against his lip and opened his mouth in response. When their tongues met, he heard her moan slightly. The sound went straight to his pants. He couldn't remember the last time something so small had affected him so much. And he never in a million years expected Rory Gilmore to be able to evoke this response from his body.

She reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him closer to her. They stayed facing each other on the bench seat for a while, making out like teenagers, but soon Tristan couldn't take it anymore. He shifted in his seat so he was facing forward and pulled Rory into his lap so she was straddling him.

"Oh!" she gasped, startled at the sudden change in position.

"I thought this would be easier," he explained in a low voice. She put her hands on his face again and leaned into kiss him. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer to him, shifting her subtly to accommodate the bulge in his pants that was slowly growing uncomfortable.

Tristan ran his hands up her sides to her shoulders, and pulled her closer, breaking their kiss so he could plant kisses on her neck as she had done to him the night before. He worked his way down her neck towards her collarbone and she threw her head back and let out the most sensuous groan he had ever heard. He paused, and she panted "oh Tristan." He couldn't help but grin into her neck.

Before he could continue, she decided it was her turn to take control, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back against the seat, coming towards him only to stop in frustration when she realized his collar would prevent her from gaining access to his neck. Instead she reached for his shirt and began deftly unbuttoning it, kissing her way down his chest as she exposed more and more of his skin.

"That's no fair!" he rasped as her fingers ghosted down his sides and around to his back, allowing for her nails to dig into him while she continued to pepper his neck and chest with kisses.

"What's not fair?" she asked in a breathy voice, not even bothering to remove her mouth from his body.

"I want this much access to your skin," he whispered.

Rory smiled a smug smile. "That can be arranged." He watched her curiously as her hands moved from his back to her own waist to pull on the red bow. "Viola," she whispered as part of her dress fell away,

He took ahold of the loose end of the dress and pulled it over to the side, he could see that the dress was only held on by a single button on the other side. He looked up at her with the question of permission in his eyes. She nodded, and he reached in and unfastened the button. In less than 30 seconds Rory Gilmore had gone from fully dressed to wearing only a bra and panties, Tristan couldn't help but smile at his good fortune. His hands skimmed across her bare skin, spanning her hips so he could once again pull her closer to him. He shifted under her, trying to make room for his ever growing erection.

He began kissing her neck and collarbone again, sliding his hands up her rib cage to her chest. His thumbs traced the underside of her bra, but stopped when they reached metal. A quick glance downward told him that he had reached the clasp. He again glanced up at her and she nodded, so he opened the clasp and gave himself full access to her smooth creamy breasts. He kissed his way down, and took one nipple into his mouth, while he used his free hand to fondle the other.

Rory grabbed his shoulders as she moaned his name and ground her self into him to get even closer. He looked up to find her head thrown back again, and a blissful express across her face. "Don't stop," she panted.

He chucked at her order, but did as he was told and set to work on the other side. He let his hands drift down her body, caressing the skin he couldn't reach with his mouth, and settling down by her hips. He gently stroked at her stomach with his thumbs. "Oh Rory." Her name rolled off his lips like an adoration.

She leaned back pulled her dress across her body to cover herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice in this lighting.

Tristan looked up at her to find her hands now covering her face. "Hoping I wouldn't notice what?"

"My stomach," she said quietly.

"What about your stomach?"

"That it's not perfectly flat," she said, embarrassment filling her voice. "I don't have great abs."

"So what? Why would I even notice that?" he asked.

"You said 'oh Rory' like you felt sorry for me," she said.

He shook his head. "No I didn't, I said 'oh Rory' like you're amazing."

The blush that overtook her cheeks was strong that Tristan could see it in virtual darkness. "Oh," she said meekly.

"I'm going to kill Logan," he said angrily.

Rory let her dress fall to the sides again and pressed her naked chest up against his. "I'm sorry I ruined the mood," she whispered softly.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his chest, pressing a kiss into her hair. "It's okay. If we would have kept going much further, we might have done something we'd regret."

She grabbed his shoulders again and pushed herself backwards. She refastened her bra and tugged her dress shut, fastening the button and tying the tie in a bow. She then slid off his lap and back onto her own side of the seat.

"Woah," Tristan said, "what happened here?"

"You think if we kept going you'd regret it?" she asked coldly.

"What?" he repeated. Then it clicked. "No, no Rory. That's not what I meant."

"Right," she spat bitterly.

He sighed, and turned to face her. "What I meant was that I might regret it if our first time, that we remember, was in the back seat of a car."

She stared at him with a stony expression on her face.

"When we have sex, and we will have sex," he told her knowingly, "I want it to be great. I don't want it to be rushed and cramped. I want to take my time and make sure you enjoy every minute of it."

Her face softened and she reached up to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. "Okay, I can understand that I guess," she said.

"So should we head home?" he asked suggestively.

"Nah, there's still another thirty minutes or so of the movie," she told him. She lifted his arm around her shoulder and snuggled back into his chest and returned her attention to the movie screen as if nothing in the past 40 minutes had happened.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As usual, I don't own anything. No Gilmore Girls, no Breakfast At Tiffany's.<strong>

**This is my first attempt at even mild M, so please let me know what you think. (Even if you think it was terribly cheesy.)**

**Up next, we'll find out what happens when Rory and Tristan get home from the movies. **

**Please read and review! **

**S**


	29. Chapter 29

She stared at the movie screen and sipped her soda, but didn't really have much of a clue as to what was going on. Her mind was racing. She'd made out with Tristan! On purpose! Not to put on a show. Just for them. And then, she got offended when he's suggested that they stop. He was right, she knew he was. If they'd gone any further, she probably would have been upset later. Wouldn't she?

Rory thought about it for a bit as Paul chased after Holly. Did she want to sleep with Tristan? She was of two minds on the matter. Part of her brain chastised her for even considering sleeping with a man that was her enemy a week ago. But the other part of her brain was intrigued. While she knew you didn't have to be in love to have sex, she'd never slept with someone she wasn't in love with. The thought of just having sex was a little bit thrilling. He was right, they couldn't go a whole year in close quarters without having sex, but was she ready to jump into that kind of a relationship so soon?

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan watched Paul and Holly arguing in the taxi cab, and wondered what would happen when the movie was over. They'd go home, but would they go back to what they were doing earlier? Or would they go their separate ways?

He couldn't believe that Rory was insecure about her body. There were countless women out there who would kill to have her body and her life, yet she was worried that her stomach wasn't perfectly flat. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he knew that Logan was somehow behind this. Punching Logan in his perfectly formed nose just grew more and more appealing.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't really notice that the movie was over until Rory cleared her throat. "Are we going to go soon?" she asked as the credits rolled. Tristan glanced around the parking lot to find that cars were already forming a line to exit.

"Yeah. Why don't you go dump the remaining popcorn, and I'll put the seats back in place," he suggested.

She nodded, and reached down likely to guide her feet back into her shoes. She straightened her dress and looked at him, "Do I look okay?"

"Of course."

"So not like someone who's been doing some heavy petting in the backseat of the car?" she asked with a grin.

"Heavy petting? Who says that anymore?" he teased.

Rory shot him a mini glare. "I think it's fitting based on the movie we just watched! Again, how do I look?"

He considered her appearance for a moment, surprisingly, her hair wasn't mussed at all. Her dress had been slightly rumpled, and her lipstick was missing, but other than that, she looked as put together as ever. Unable to resist, he reached out and tousled her hair, to give it just a bit of a messy look. "You want to look a little like someone who's been making out in the back seat of the car... we are newlyweds after all."

"Do I need to smear a little lipstick on your collar?"

Tristan sighed, "no, I like this shirt, and it will never come out. However, I'm willing to mis-button the shirt to sell it."

She laughed. "Do you find it weird that we're trying to make it look like we've spent most of the movie making out in the car, when that's actually what we did?"

"Yes. Sometimes being a celebrity is truly a bizarre experience." He unbuttoned his shirt and rebuttoned it in a misaligned manner. "Remember to look blissfully dazed when you take the popcorn and soda to the trash," he reminded her.

She opened her door and slid out of the car, winking at him as she grabbed the popcorn bucket and headed for the nearest trash can.

Tristan pulled the drivers seat back into the proper position, and reached over and did the same to the passenger's seat. He opened his own door, and climbed out of the car pulling the blanked with him so he could refold it and set it on the seat on top of the pillows. He paused for a moment, looking around to find Rory. He knew she was safe, but still worried that she would be accosted by fans. When he finally found her, she was making her way back to him with a large smile on her face. He quickly made his way to the passenger side of the car, and opened her door for her. When she was in reaching distance, he extended his hand to take hers and pulled her in for a light kiss on the forehead before he helped her into her seat and shut the door.

She was staring at him by the time he'd gotten around the car and back into is own seat. "You put on a quite a show."

"I do try," he admitted.

He put the car in gear, and made his way into the exit line.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Their ride home was pretty much silent. Rory was anxiously considering her options and what may happen when they returned home.

Tristan put a hand on her arm when they pulled into the garage, and she tensed. "Relax Rory. We don't have to pick up where we left off when we get into the house," he said softly.

She looked at him in amazement, had he read her mind? "What if I want to?" she asked equally softly. She clasped her hands over her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed, she couldn't believe she'd said that aloud. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if he'd come to his senses and realized the mess that would likely arise if they became physically involved.

"Rory," he whispered, "look at me."

She tentatively pulled her hands away from her face, and opened one eye curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"There's no need to rush."

She frowned in response. It wasn't rejection, but it wasn't the reaction she expected either.

"Come on, let's get inside."

She followed him inside, and immediately slipped out of her shoes, and headed upstairs.

"Where are you going?" he asked curiously. "Are you coming back?"

"I'm going to go change into something more comfortable, if you can think of a reason for me to come back, I'll come back," she told him cheekily.

"Eva's got to start rehearsing her lines," he called after her.

She stopped and turned around to look at him. "Really? You want me to work with you?"

He nodded, "Now go change your clothes and hurry back, I'll open a bottle of wine."

Rory entered her bedroom and dropped her shoes next to the door. She crossed to the dresser and opened her lingerie drawer. Which new outfit should she wear tonight? She thought she wanted things to move forward with Tristan, but even if they didn't those pjs seemed so comfy that she wanted to wear a set just for herself. She pulled the blue set out of the drawer and snipped the tags with the nail scissors she had sitting on top of the dresser. She removed her dress and slid the silky shorts up her legs. She contemplated whether or not she should leave her bra on, and finally decided to take it off. He was her husband and she was supposed to be comfortable around him. If her not wearing a bra before bed made him uncomfortable, then he could just deal with it. She pulled the camisole over her shoulders and shuddered as the material glided across her stomach. Rory couldn't recall a pair of pajamas that had ever been so comfortable. She pushed her arms through the sleeves on the robe and tied it loosely around her waist.

She quickly checked out her appearance in the mirror. Nothing spectacular, but definitely nothing to sneer at. She supposed that would have to do.

"Rory! Hurry up!" Tristan called.

She ran her fingers through her hair, and headed downstairs to run lines with her husband.

"Where are you?"

"In the living room," he answered.

Sitting on the sofa in shorts and a wife beater holding a glass of wine, Tristan seemed to be at a loss for words when Rory entered the room.

"Do I look okay?" she asked nervously. "Did I have a wardrobe malfunction?" she looked down to make sure she wasn't hanging out somewhere, or she had missed removing a tag.

He shook his head. "Is that new?"

She nodded. "I thought this might be an improvement on the yoga pants and tank tops."

"Definitely."

Rory was unable to keep herself from grinning at his response. "So, do you have an extra script for me?"

"You can have mine," he said as he held it out to her. "I should have all of my lines memorized anyhow."

She grabbed the script and eagerly paged through it. "Where should I start?"

"I think the scene we rehearsed yesterday is the first one in this episode." He took the script back and quickly found the page it started on, and handed it back.

Rory read in silence at first just to try and get a sense of the character. "Have you read the script for the whole series?"

Tristan nodded.

"Can you tell me about the progression of Eva's character? Or is she merely there to give Jack a way to express things?"

He thought about it for a moment or two. "Most of the role is allowing Jack, and some of the other characters, an outlet to get information to the audience. But she does have a small bit of growth. She's a nurse, and towards the end of the series, the hospital is attacked, and she has to try and keep the patients safe."

"Any romantic entanglements?"

"A couple of kisses," he admitted begrudgingly.

"So not with Jack then?" she asked with a laugh.

"No. Not with Jack," he practically growled.

"Awww poor Tristan," she giggled without sympathy. "If you're nice, I'll let you rehearse those scenes with me."

"Come on, let's get started," he said drawing her back from the fit of giggles.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan couldn't believe he'd forgotten that Eva's character had kissing scenes. If he'd remembered that he probably wouldn't have agreed to her taking the role. It was stupid and hypocritical, he knew that, but he didn't really want his wife kissing another guy in front of him. Even if she was being paid to do it. And even if she was only his wife in name. This was one of those things he would just have to deal with. He would of course be present while she filmed any kissing scenes for this project.

They rehearsed for a while, and despite her French accent sounding like the guy from the Inn they stayed in while they visited her dad, she was doing really well with the lines and the timing. Tristan was lying on the couch, and she was standing over him in character. Eva reached out to feel Jack's forehead, and Rory's silky sleeve grazed his forehead. It was the softest thing he could remember feeling in a very long time. Tristan couldn't help but break character to put his hand to her waist to feel more of the material.

"Do you think we could practice one of those kissing scenes now?" he asked in a husky voice.

She smiled and lowered herself to sit on the edge of the couch next to him. "You're terribly warm," she whispered, still in character as her hand rested on his shoulder. She leaned in and kissed him lightly.

The feel of her lips on his was enough for him to react. He grasped her shoulders to prevent her from breaking the kiss quickly. She opened her mouth to sigh, and he immediately licked into her inspiring a lusty groan.

After a few minutes she pulled back, just far enough to pull their lips apart. She rested her forehead against his. "I hope the guys Eva has to kiss kiss as well as you do."

He growled at her and tightened his grip on her. He pulled her on to him, then rolled over her. "You're going to pay for that," he whispered in her ear right before he began to kiss his way down her neck.

"Promise?" she asked hopefully.

He untied her robe and slipped his hands inside it, feeling his way down her torso until he reached the hem of her camisole. He inched his hands down just low enough to slide them under the silk and make contact with her bare skin. As he did this, he kissed his way down her body as well, breathing warm moist air against the silk of her pajamas. He backed away just enough to watch her skin react to the loss of warmth on now slightly damp spots that his breath had left across her chest.

Now it was her turn to grasp at him, she grabbed at his shoulders and tried to pull him back down into her body. "Please," she whimpered.

"Please what?"

"Don't stop."

Tristan leaned in and kissed her again, not being able to resist the feel of her mouth on his. She ran her hands up his neck and into his hair.

This time it was his turn to break the kiss. "Upstairs?" he panted.

"Oh yes," she moaned.

He pushed himself off the couch, and pulled her into his arms, tossing her over his shoulder.

"Tristan!" she squealed.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory couldn't help but stare at her husband's delectable ass as he carried her up the stairs. She knew she probably should have been protesting his caveman-esque behavior, but somehow knowing that he wanted her badly enough to act like this was a bit of an aphrodisiac.

She felt him shift her weight and kick the door to the bedroom open. In a few long strides he came to the stop, and Rory found herself being launched onto the bed. She giggled as she bounced.

She adjusted herself to and made her way to the head of the bed as she watched Tristan move deftly around the bedroom. He dimmed the lights, drew the blinds, and made a couple of quick movements with his thumb across the screen of his phone.

"You're not planning to record this, are you?" Rory asked, suddenly nervous that he may try and do just that.

A slow bluesy guitar riff filled the room. "No I'm not planning to record this." She watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, giving her a view of his perfect abs. He was cut, but not so ripped that he looked like he lived at the gym, and he had a light smattering of dark blond hair trailing down his stomach. Rory couldn't help but smile, there was a reason it was called a _happy trail_. The sound of the zipper on his shorts brought her attention back to the present, and she watched as he shoved them, and his boxers, down his hips. He stepped towards her leaving the shorts in a pile at his feet.

Looking at him, really looking at him, she realized he was much bigger than she expected. She backed up further on the bed, shrinking away from him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She blushed, "You're... more well endowed than I thought you'd be," she mumbled.

He chuckled. "Nice to know where I stand with the competition."

She scrunched further into the headboard. "I haven't done this in a while," she reminded him nervously.

Tristan moved closer to her, settling himself on the edge of the bed. "I know we don't remember doing anything, but I'm pretty sure our bodies haven't forgotten." He reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I won't hurt you," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her.

Some how his kiss calmed her, and it wasn't long before she was tugging at her own clothes trying to get them off.

"Do you want some help with that?"

She nodded, and he again slid his hands down to the hem of her camisole. This time, instead of merely sliding his hands under it, he pushed it up her body, and pulled it over her head. "You're beautiful," he murmured as he tossed the silk aside, and began to kiss his way down to the remaining silk covering her lower half.

She couldn't help but arch against him as he kissed her skin. She ran her hands up his back and down his arms, not being able to resist the feeling of his warm skin beneath her hands. His lips reached the waistband of her shorts, and she felt him stop. She looked down at him to find him staring up at her, asking silent permission to continue. She nodded, and he caught her waistband with his fingers and pulled the material down slowly. Rory trembled in ecstasy as the silky material slid down her legs. Soon it was gone and she felt Tristan's hands sliding back up her legs. She briefly closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation, and when she opened them again, she found Tristan hovering over her, supporting his weight on his forearm, and using his free hand to caress her cheek.

She reached up to cup his face and pull him down to her so she could kiss him.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he broke their kiss.

Her nerves were getting the best of her again, and she tensed. "Yes," she finally said firmly.

He slowly slid into her, and she let out a sigh of relief. Tristan was right, her body did remember.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

_An indeterminate amount of time later..._

Tristan found himself laying on his back panting heavily next to Rory who was doing the same.

"Wow," she breathed.

He couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, I'd say 'Wow' is about right."

They laid in silence for another minute or two before it finally got to Rory and she started to get out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To clean up," she answered as she stood up and grabbed her pajamas off the floor.

He nodded, "are you coming back?"

She stopped in her path and looked back at him. "Do you want me to?"

He didn't know how to answer the question. Did he? Part of him felt like this action had changed something in their relationship, and it would be a crappy thing to do to send her back to her own bed. But would he be pushing her if he asked her to stay? He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't realize she'd taken his silence as an answer until he heard the bathroom door slam.

Another bluesy guitar riff filled the silence, and then the lyrics filtered in. '_You can be mad in the morning, I'll take back what I said... just don't leave me alone here... it's cold baby... come back to bed.'_

He snorted. Of course it would be that song. He jumped out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, hoping she hadn't locked the door behind her.

She hadn't, and he slid in quietly, watching her waiting impatiently for the water in the shower to heat up.

"I'm sorry," he said, catching her off guard and making her head snap in his direction.

"If you didn't want me to come back, why did you even ask?"

"I didn't say I didn't want you to come back. You left before I could answer."

She rolled her eyes. "Actions speak louder than words DuGrey." She started to step into the shower, but he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could get her foot on the tile.

She looked down at his hand then looked up at him. "What?"

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. "I want you to come back to bed."

She started to protest, but before she could get a word out, he kissed her again. He held her close to him with one arm, and reached in to shut off the shower with the other.

Once the shower was off, he used both arms to pick her up again, and carry her back to bed. "I wanted to use that shower," Rory protested slightly.

"Later."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory woke up with a heavy arm draped across her stomach. She nuzzled back into the warmth behind her, and felt the arm draw her closer. "Morning," she whispered.

"Shhhh, sleepy time," he whispered back.

She grinned and let the warm feeling of sleepy bliss drag her back under.

The second time she woke up, she was much colder and she thought she was alone. She carefully stretched her arms and legs to confirm that she was alone in the king sized bed. Tristan's warmth still lingered in the comforter, so he hadn't been gone too long She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling and began to think about her actions from the night before. So that was sex without love. If it was all that good, it was definitely something she should have started doing earlier in her life. She tried to pinpoint how it was different than she felt after sex with someone she loved, but she couldn't figure out exactly the difference. Just that there was one.

"Good Morning," a voice called to her from the door. "I brought you coffee."

Rory smiled. "Really?"

He nodded and moved towards the bed to set her mug on the nightstand. "I thought you'd appreciate it."

She pushed her self into a seated position, blushing slightly when the covers slid down and she realized she never made it back into her pajamas. As soon as she could, she tugged the covers back up to her chin.

Tristan laughed, "You realize I've seen it all now right?"

"Shut up," she growled as she reached for her coffee.

He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to take a sip.

"This is good," she informed him after she'd had a couple sips.

He merely nodded. "Plans for the day?"

She shrugged and took another sip. "Nothing booked, you?"

"My mother called," he told her. His tone of voice clearly indicating his annoyance.

"Already? What time is it?"

"Early-ish, not even 8:00. But she called yesterday afternoon and I didn't call her back, so I'm not surprised she called as early as she did."

"What does she want?" Rory asked, trying not to be nervous about the fact that the parent of yet another significant relationship in her life didn't like her.

Tristan sighed. "She wants to have lunch."

Rory coughed as she choked on her coffee. "Please tell me she's kidding. After dinner a few days ago..."

He shook his head. "She thinks that the three of us should have lunch. But really she just wants a chance to suck up to you and apologize for my father."

"What do you think about that?"

This time he shrugged his shoulders and looked at the floor. "Dunno. You want to go?"

She sat up and set her coffee cup on the nightstand. "This is your relationship with your parents. I will do whatever it is you want to do. If you want to go, go. If you want me to go with you, fine, I'll go with you. If you want to not go, I'm okay with that too."

"You're not helpful," he groaned.

Rory chuckled. "Sorry, nowhere in my job description does it say helpful."

"What would you do?"

She thought about it a moment, talking a deep breath before answering. "I really think I should stay out of this."

"Look, I'm not looking for you to tell me what to do, honest. I just value your opinion on the subject."

"You shouldn't."

Tristan furrowed his brow. "Why not?"

"First, I don't have a mother to have a complicated relationship with."

"Noted, and disregarded," he quipped.

She sighed, "and second, I had a horrible relationship with Logan's family. He used to ask me questions about what he'd do, and I'd answer him. He'd listen and agree, then when it backfired with his family, he'd tell them it was my idea."

"I wouldn't do that," he said defensively.

"I'm not saying that you would. I'm just trying to explain why I'm leery of giving advice on matters such as this."

'I get that, I really do. But if I promise that it won't come back to haunt you, would you please give me your opinion on this? I tend to vacillate between too harsh and too forgiving when it comes to my mom."

"Maybe you can give her a call and set up lunch for a couple weeks from now. That way you're not ignoring her, but you're also not letting her completely brush off what happened at dinner."

He thought about that for a minute or two. "I think that will work. I can tell her we're too busy this weekend, and your dad is visiting us next weekend, so we really are too busy next weekend. Thanks."

"Happy to be of assistance," she admitted obligingly. "So what should we do today?"

Tristan sat on the edge of the bed and leaned towards Rory. He raised an eyebrow and made his suggestion. "How about more of what we did last night?"

Rory reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him the last couple inches towards her. "Sounds like a plan to me," she whispered against his lips before kissing him soundly.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry it took so long for the update, the real world has been kicking my butt lately.<p>

I don't own Breakfast at Tiffany's or Gilmore Girls, and the song Tristan hears is Come Back to Bed, by John Mayer - which I also don't own, but I really wish I did.

Thanks to playingmakebelieve for pre-reading the lemony bits for me - I hope you don't think they're too cheesy.

Please read and review and let me know what you think. I appreciate all of your feedback!

S


	30. Chapter 30

The alarm on Tristan's phone began to chime, pulling them back into the real world. "Why do you have an alarm set for the middle of the day?" Rory asked, a little bit breathlessly.

"Fuck," Tristan muttered. "I have a lunch date."

"A lunch date?" she repeated as she began to disentangle herself from him.

He nodded. "It's with a director for a project I'm hoping to land after I'm done with the mini series." He leaned in and kissed her shoulder. "Please know that I would rather stay here and continue doing this..."

"I understand." She smiled up at him. "Do you want me to go with you? Or..." she trailed off not really knowing what other option she wanted to present.

"Would you?"

"Who's the director?"

He sat up against the headboard and stretched his arms up over his head. "A guy called Marcus Wellby."

At this Rory popped up, "you're having lunch with Markie? I'll totally go with you!"

"Markie?" Tristan repeated.

She nodded eagerly. "I haven't seen him in ages! He was an A.D. on a project I worked on a couple years ago. We got on really well, but since he went out on his own, none of his projects have been quite right for me, you know?"

He couldn't control the snort he made.

"What?"

"None of his projects have been quite right? Must be nice." His reply contained the bitterness he desperately wanted to conceal, but for some reason couldn't. "Do you know how much I would love to turn down roles instead of being turned down for them?"

A cold silence filled the room.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Rory finally asked quietly.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry."

Rory nodded, but got up out of bed.

He opened his eyes when he felt the bed shift. "Where are you going?"

"I don't..." she trailed off as she left the room.

"Fuck," he muttered again as he slammed his fists into the bed.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

She entered her bedroom and began searching for something to wear. All of the sudden she was very aware that she was naked, and it was making her very uncomfortable. She found an outfit, but before she could make her way back to Tristan's room, and into the bathroom, she heard the shower turn on. With a sigh, she took a left turn out of her room and went in search of another bathroom.

Luckily the next bathroom she found had towels and toiletries in it already, or she would have had to gone to get hers from the master bath, and she wasn't in the mood for that.

The water heated up quickly, and soon she found herself standing under some impressive water pressure, trying to clear her thoughts. Tristan was fickle sometimes. They'd had a great night last night, and she'd thought they were having fun this morning too, but one innocent comment had blown up. She could understand that he was sensitive about his fame, especially given his parents, but it wasn't her fault she was more famous than he was. She didn't make him behave the way he did on Molly's World. She hadn't seen him since the show ended, she couldn't be held responsible for his actions and reactions! It wasn't fair that he take his frustration out on her. She angrily lathered her hair trying to figure out what to do.

When she was with Logan she'd learned his hot button issues (her being more famous was also one of his issues) and she'd stayed away from them. But she was tired of tiptoeing around egos! She was tired of being the one to back down, or apologize for something she wasn't remotely sorry for. Her comment about Markie wasn't meant as anything other than an explanation of how she knew him, damn it!

She rinsed the shampoo from her hair and massaged in the conditioner, determined to figure out what to do about this mess from the safety and warmth of her shower.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

He stared at his phone trying to decide if he wanted to call "Markie" and cancel, or call him and ask if it was okay if Rory joined their meeting. If he cancelled the meeting, he was pretty sure he wouldn't get another one, but if he left Rory home alone, and still angry with him, he was pretty sure he'd come home to some property destruction. He scrolled through his contacts and found the one he was looking for.

The phone rang twice before he heard "Wellby."

"Hey Marcus, it's Tristan DuGrey," he started.

"What's up DuGrey? Are we still on for lunch today?"

"Yeah, but about that, my wife wants to join us, would that be okay with you?" he asked, trying not to sound like a nervous kid.

"Your wife? Oh yeah, you just got married. Congrats." Tristan tried to wait out the pause. "Wait, you married Rory Gilmore! Of course she can come with you! I haven't seen her in ages!"

He chuckled. "Funny that's exactly what Rory said when I mentioned I was having lunch with you this morning."

"Great minds..." the director trailed off. "Well then, I'll see the two of you at 1:00 for lunch."

"See you then."

The connection was severed and Tristan stared down at his phone. Crap. Now it was time to go make up with his wife. He sighed and decided to finish getting dressed first. Khaki pants were a must, not too dressy, but not too casual either, then a short sleeved linen shirt. Relaxed, yet nice looking.

As he buttoned his shirt he thought about his situation. He knew he shouldn't have snapped at Rory. She had just answered the question he'd asked her. It wasn't her fault that he was in the position he was in. As much as he'd spent the last decade or so blaming her for his failures, he knew she wasn't responsible.

He left the bedroom in search of her. He knocked on her bedroom door, but there was no answer. Deciding to risk her wrath, he slowly turned the knob and stuck his head in. The room was empty. He began moving again, and that's when he heard the sound of the shower running. He tried his luck a second time as he turned the knob on the bathroom door. To his surprise, it was unlocked. If their positions were reversed, he would have definitely locked the door.

"Rory?" he said tentatively as he entered the room.

"What?"

"I talked to Wellby, you're welcome to join us for lunch."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically.

"I thought that's what you wanted."

A loud sigh preceded any more talking. "No. I wanted to have lunch with Marcus and the Tristan from last night."

"The Tristan from last night?" he asked.

"Yeah." Rory stuck her head out of the shower to look at him. "The fun one, who took me to the movies and made out with me in the back seat of the car. The one that makes me feel special, and so good he took me to bed and made me forget my name. Not the douche canoe who snapped at me over something completely innocent, and let me remind you, something I have no control over."

"Did you just call me a douche canoe?"

"Really? That's what you take from this?" she shouted.

He exhaled strongly, apparently he wasn't going to be able to kid his way out of this. "No. It's not. You're right, I reacted poorly. I shouldn't have snapped at you." Rory just stared at him. "I'm sorry."

She blinked and pulled her head back into the shower.

"So will you go to lunch with me?" he asked. He meant to come across nonchalant but despite his efforts it sounded like he was pleading with her.

"Well I kind of have to now don't I?" she snapped from the shower. "You asked if I could come, and Marcus will know something's going on if you show up without me after taking the time to call and ask in advance."

He waited to see if she was finished, before responding. And sure enough just as he opened his mouth, she continued, "It's a good thing I'm good at what I do."

"You're acting like you've never reacted badly to anything," Tristan said finally. "It doesn't seem all together that long ago that a certain brunette bit my head off for asking about her life."

"How about you get out of here and let me finish my shower," she replied coolly.

"Yes, I admit it, I screwed up. It's happened before and it'll happen again. I'm sorry. But guess what Princess, you're not perfect either."

"Excuse me?" she said, sticking her head back out of the shower.

"You're not perfect!" he repeated.

Rory laughed. "Did I ever claim to be? No, I didn't. Look, I'm almost done with my shower, can you please just leave me alone to finish this, we can keep fighting when I'm done if you want."

"I don't want to fight."

"Coulda fooled me."

Tristan backed out of the bathroom to let Rory finish her shower. Did he want to fight with her? He knew he was in the wrong, it just bothered him that she acted like she was never in the wrong. Experience told him to go cool his jets and wait for her down stairs, but for some reason, he couldn't make himself go down stairs. Instead he paced back and forth in front of her bathroom door. If he didn't fix this, he'd lose all the ground he'd gained in the past couple of days. He was actually starting to enjoy Rory's company, both intellectually and physically and he wasn't ready to give that up.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory finished her shower by turning the water all the way to icy cold for a minute to literally cool her off. She shivered as she reached for her towel, and sighed in relief as she twisted her hair up into the towel getting her cold wet hair off her body. She wrapped the second towel around herself and stepped out of the shower. As she dried off she thought about what Tristan had said. Was she really being such a hypocrite? She did just go off on him two nights ago for prying into her life when all he'd done was ask a simple question. But she'd apologized to him after she'd calmed down... just like he'd tried to apologize to her. Fuck. She was going to have to apologize for not accepting his apology. What a mess.

She pulled on her undergarments and grabbed her dress. It was casual but not too casual, hopefully just right for lunch with her husband and an old friend. She slipped the dress on and reached back to zip the dress and got it half way up before she realized she couldn't keep pulling from the angle she was at, and she couldn't reach it from the other angle. Tristan was going to have to help her. She opened the door to go search him out, only to find him pacing outside her door. He stopped when he heard the door.

"Oh, good, you're here. Can you help me zip my dress?" she asked as she turned around so he could reach the zipper.

"Sure," he said as he zipped her up. "You look great."

"Thanks."

She turned to face him and they stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"I'm sorry," they both blurted out in unison.

"I shouldn't have thrown the other night back in your face," Tristan said.

"I should have just accepted your apology, we're all capable of reacting badly."

Rory smiled at him. "Well, I'm going to go do my hair. What time do we need to leave?"

"We probably need to leave in about 30 minutes."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"A place called Water Grill - I think Marcus wanted lobster rolls."

She giggled, "you can take the boy out of Maine, but you can't take Maine out of the boy." She turned to walk down the hall to the master bathroom. "I'll try to hurry."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan made his way into the living room and relaxed on the couch. He was surprised and relieved that Rory had apologized to him. She was wearing a knee length lace-looking dress, and after seeing her in it, he was especially eager to make up. He'd told her she looked great, but that was an understatement. He had struggled to zip up her dress when all he wanted to do was take it off her.

He picked up the script that they'd left on the coffee table the night before and began to read through it again, this time reading for Eva's parts instead of Jack's - trying to remember exactly who else she interacted with and how. He needed to prepare himself to deal with the other actors she had to interact with intimately.

He'd gotten so focused on what he was doing, she actually surprised him when she knocked on the door frame to get his attention. He looked up to find that she'd paired the sand colored dress with a red cardigan, and her toe nails seemed to match. The shoes in her hand were some matching espadrille wedges, with a peep toe and laces that would wind up her calves. Her make up was light, and her hair was pulled back by a simple headband. She looked every bit the east coast girl she actually was.

"Can I wear my red had today?" he asked with a grin.

"Sure."

He started to go upstairs to get the hat, but paused, and approached Rory. "Thank you," he said quietly as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"For what?" she asked equally quietly.

"For forgiving my snappish behavior."

"Ditto."

"You look amazing, by the way."

"You look pretty nice too. Now go grab your hat!" she patted his ass, and shooed him out of the room.

He ran up the stairs taking them two at a time, grabbed his hat and a pair of tri-tone Top Siders and then practically slid down the bannister to get back to the first floor.

"Ready to go?" he asked as he dropped his shoes and slid his bare feet into them.

Rory was bent down lacing her shoes up her legs, "You bet."

She stood up and he grabbed her hand. He saw her glance down at their hands, but she didn't say anything, so he continued to hold on. He lead her to the car and helped her into the passenger's seat.

"You know that hat doesn't look too bad on you," she said conversationally when he climbed into the drivers seat.

"Thanks."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory was curious about what Tristan saw in Markie's work that made him want to be a part of it. It wasn't that he picked bad projects, just that most of them tended to be romantic comedies and she was so tired of playing that role. The plucky heroine had lost its charm.

"So is there a specific part you're looking for?" she asked after a few miles of silence.

Tristan shrugged as he continued to drive. "Not really, I'm just tired of the frat boy role. Wellby's films don't tend to have that role in them. I don't mind being the bad guy, but I'm tired of being portrayed as an idiot."

She stared at him. He looked like he belonged on a yacht in the Hamptons. His blond hair and tan skin set off by his white linen shirt, his boat shoes looking expensive but casual at the same time. He didn't look like a frat boy dressed like this. Even the jaunty red cap gave him an air of confidence and unapproachability instead of the air of frivolity Rory had expected.

"Well you definitely don't look like a frat boy today," she admitted.

"Thanks."

Before long they'd pulled up to the restaurant, and the valet was helping Rory out of the car.

Tristan walked around the front of the car, and immediately took Rory's hand in his own again. "Shall we?" he asked.

She nodded and let him lead her into the restaurant.

"DuGrey," he told the maitre'd softly, "there will be three of us instead of two though."

The man looked like he was going to object, but then looked up and saw Rory standing hand in hand with Tristan. "Of course Sir, your table is this way." He led them to a booth, and again, Rory let Tristan have the outside.

"I'll just have to get out to greet Markie," she told him as she slid in.

"Of course." He slid on to the bench next to her. "So aside from lunch today, what are our plans for the rest of the weekend?"

"Well you have to call your mother back some time," she reminded him. "Other than that, I plan to study my lines for Monday, and maybe call Paris and Lane and see if they want to come to dinner next Saturday."

"You really want to have a dinner party when your dad is in town?" he asked hesitantly. "All those people _know_, well, except your dad."

"You told Paris?" she asked.

He nodded.

So Paris was closer to Tristan than Rory thought. That would explain why she would have given him the information about Atlantic City.

"Honestly, I just thought it would be nice to have a bunch of people so my dad didn't examine our relationship too closely. And he knows Marty and Paris from Molly's World, and Lane because he's known her all her life."

Before Tristan could respond another voice interrupted them. "Hello newlyweds!"

"Markie!" Rory squealed. Tristan stood to shake his hand but Rory practically pushed past him to tackle her friend in a hug.

"Gilly! How are you?"

"Don't call me Gilly!"

"Then don't call me Markie!" he retorted.

She rolled her eyes. "Marcus Wellby, this is my husband Tristan DuGrey. Tristan, Marcus Wellby."

"Nice to meet you in person," Marcus said as he extended his hand to Tristan.

"And you as well."

Rory slid back into her spot, and the boys sat down as well. Everyone picked up their menus and began to scan for lunch options.

"So what are you working on?" Marcus asked as he perused his menu.

Rory opened her mouth to speak and then remembered it was Tristan's lunch meeting and not hers, therefore the question was likely directed at him.

"I'm working on a World War Two era mini series," Tristan shared as he looked at his own menu.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Marcus replied, "I meant Rory."

Tristan glanced at her and she shrugged apologetically. "Actually I just accepted a part in the mini series Tristan is working on. It's a small part, I'm just filling in for someone, but I thought it'd be a kick to work with Tris again after all these years." She was laying it on kind of thick, calling him 'Tris' and all, but he deserved her support in this. She wrapped her arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

Marcus put down his menu and looked at the two of them, but before he could say anything the waiter arrived to drop off waters and take orders.

"Do you know what you want?" Tristan asked her quietly.

She leaned in closely to whisper to him, "I'm thinking about the lobster roll."

He smiled down at her, "me too," he admitted, then kissed her on the top of the head.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked.

"I am," Marcus answered.

"Us too," Tristan confirmed.

The waiter merely stared at them expectantly.

"I'll have the Lobster Roll," Marcus told him. "And an iced tea, with lemon."

The waiter nodded and looked at Tristan and Rory. "We'll both have the Lobster Rolls as well," Tristan told him. "Can you make mine traditional and hers Connecticut style?" he asked as a follow up.

"Of course, Sir. Any beverages?"

"An Arnold Palmer for me, Rory?" he asked.

"The same for me," she said without taking her eyes off Tristan.

The waiter left with their order, and Marcus spoke. "God you two are sickening!" He shuddered in an exaggerated manner. "If I'd have known this in advance, I would have told you to leave your wife at home."

"Markie!" Rory scolded.

"Come on Gilly, you know I love you. But you two are giving me a toothache!" he teased.

The waiter delivered the beverages, and let them know that their food would be out shortly.

"I feel like we should be out on The Cape," Marcus confessed as he added a packet of sugar to his iced tea. "You two look so New England right now. Classics instead of contemporary fashions. I love it."

"You can take the girl out of Connecticut but you can't take Connecticut out of the girl," Tristan said as he wrapped an arm around Rory and pulled her close to him.

She tried not to snicker, knowing she'd said the same thing about Marcus earlier.

"So, DuGrey, you wanted to meet. What's going on?"

"The script for your latest project landed on my desk a couple of weeks ago. I found it enjoyable and I thought I'd see if you'd finished casting," he explained trying to sound as cool as possible.

The director looked at the pair quizzically. "Which role?"

"I felt a connection to the role of Terrance," Tristan admitted.

"The lead?" Marcus asked incredulously.

Rory could feel Tristan tense up next her. This must be hard for him, to ask for a chance instead of having one offered. It was an experience she hadn't had in a while, but she could remember the uncomfortable-ness quite well. She rested her hand on his thigh and rubbed softly, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not asking for the part," Tristan said tersely. "I'm just asking for a chance to audition."

"What do you think Gilly?" Wellby redirected his attention to Rory.

She smiled brightly, "that you should cast my husband of course!" She looked at Tristan adoringly.

"Gilly, be serious!"

Rory stiffened and extricated herself from under Tristan's arm. "Markie, I am serious. I'm sure all you've ever seen is Tristan DuGrey: Frat Boy, but I promise you there's so much more to him."

Marcus rolled his eyes.

"Tristan has the same problem that I do," she continued, and this got her friend's attention. "He's played the same roll for such a long time that everyone assumes that the frat boy character isn't actually a character, but instead is just how Tristan is. Do you really think I would have married him if all there was to him was an aging frat boy? Or worse, an idiot?" She pausing, giving him a chance to say something, but he didn't reply. "I'm not asking you to cast him in your movie Markie. I'm just telling you that you should give him a chance to audition for you and show you what he can do."

She sat back and took a sip of her drink. She was just about to start making conversation with Tristan, who appeared to be just as locked up as Marcus was, when Marcus finally spoke.

"If I give Tristan an audition, will you audition for me too?"

Now it was Rory's turn to roll her eyes. "Sure. If that's what it takes-"

Tristan cut her off. "No." She turned to look at him and he put and hand on her shoulder and looking only at her. "I appreciate you going to bat for me, and that you're willing to do something you don't want to do to help me out, but it's not worth it. There are other roles."

"I don't mind," she protested weakly.

"I do." Tristan slid towards the end of the bench and reached back to take Rory's hand. "I'm sorry I've wasted your time Wellby." He stood up and helped Rory up. "I"m sorry I dragged you out of bed for this," he whispered softly.

She blushed, a genuine blush. "It's fine, I probably would've injured myself if we hadn't taken a break."

"Wait!" Marcus said loudly before they got more than a step or two from the table. They both turned and looked at him. "Sit back down. Please?"

"I truly don't wish to waste any more of your time," Tristan told him.

"No, come on, I insist. We can set up an audition time for next week," Marcus said eagerly. "Gilly of course you don't have to audition for me, if I ever write something you want to be in, you know you'll have the part." He smiled a winning smile and waited. Rory was ready to sit back down, she had been looking forward to a lobster roll and didn't want to abandon it, but she was letting Tristan take the lead.

Tristan took his sweet time thinking about it, before he finally nudged Rory back towards the bench. "Okay."

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Shortly after they had retaken their seats, lunch was delivered. Everyone dove in, and conversation suddenly became very light. Rory and Marcus were waxing poetic about the "proper" coast. The crisp air, the food, and how much they missed being around crusty New Englanders.

Tristan took the time to decompress. He smiled and nodded in the right places, and chuckled along with their jokes, but really he was trying to wrap his brain around what had just happened. Rory had been willing to audition for a role she had absolutely no interest in just so someone would give him a chance. Why would she do that? Was this just so he wouldn't forget their agreement? Would she have held it over him later? No. He couldn't imagine her ever coming back at him with "well I got you that job." As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was pretty sure this was one of those things that Rory had done out of the goodness of her heart. He couldn't be absolutely sure, and he would ask her about it to confirm later, but he was pretty sure.

He'd been lost in his thoughts for so long that he was startled when Rory nudged him. "Yeah?" he asked absently.

"Can you let me up?" she asked quietly.

He glanced around the table, most of the food was eaten, but the bill hadn't come yet. "Why?" he asked curiously.

She raised an eyebrow at him then looked back at her empty Arnold Palmer glass. Without forcing her to actually say something he took her meaning and slid out of the bench.

As soon as he sat back down, Marcus started talking.

"So do you think next Thursday would work?" he asked.

Tristan grabbed his phone and began to scan through his calendar, checking for call times and other appointments. "What time?" he asked in return.

"Oh I don't know, Thursday afternoon?"

Tristan shook his head. "My call time on Thursday isn't until 11 am, I'm likely going to be on the set until at least 5:00."

"What about Thursday morning then, like 8:30?" Marcus countered.

"Let me check with Rory, I'm not sure what time her call time is set for." He didn't want to tell Wellby that he wanted to watch Rory work, or that he felt the need to supervise her kissing scenes, so instead he added, "Her car's in the shop right now and we're sharing a car."

Wellby nodded. "Sure, sure. Just check her schedule and let me know. Wednesday afternoon would also work for me if Thursday morning doesn't work out."

Tristan made a note in his phone about the available times so he could discuss them with Rory later, then tried to think of something to say. "So how long have you known Rory?"

"Not as long as you have," the director replied with a wink.

Before Tristan could reply, Rory returned to the table, followed closely by the waiter dropping off the bill.

There was a small scuffle about who got to pay. Tristan argued valiantly that he'd requested the meeting, and thus he should pay, but Marcus ultimately won by claiming he should pay in celebration of their recent nuptials or alternatively in apology for his abhorrent behavior.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Rory stood between Tristan and Marcus as they waited outside for the valet to get the cars. Tristan's BWM was the first to arrive, so she let him shake hands and say goodbye first so he could tip the valet, then she gave Marcus a big hug.

"I'm sorry I behaved poorly," he said as he squeezed her back.

"Just don't make a habit of it," she replied with a grin.

He pinched her arm. "I told Tristan that either Wednesday afternoon or Thursday morning worked for me, and he said he had to check with you. I'm just mentioning it to you in case you two get too busy and he forgets to tell you."

Rory blushed and pushed her friend away. "That's just lewd Markie!"

He laughed, and she couldn't help but laugh too as she started towards the car.

"I'll see you soon," she called as she was helped into the passengers seat.

"You will," he confirmed as he waved goodbye.

The valet closed the door and she let out a sigh of relief. "Is it wrong that I don't want to leave the house for the rest of the weekend?" Tristan raised an eyebrow at her, and she took this as her cue to continue. "I'm starting to like our little bubble," she admitted. "It's nice not to have to put on a show for anyone."

"You don't put on a show for me?" he asked with a pout.

She leaned in close to him, and nipped his earlobe before replying in a breathy whisper, "It's a completely different kind of show."

Tristan gave her a wolfish grin, "You bet your sexy ass it is."

She smiled as she felt the car accelerate in attempts to get them home quicker.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the delay on this... it's been mostly done for a while now, I just couldn't wrap it up without it getting too long.<strong>

**As usual I don't own any of it.**

**Please read and review. Reviews feed the muse...**

**- S**


	31. Chapter 31

AN: The beginning is gratuitously lemon-y... if you want to skip it...

* * *

><p>Conversation in the car on the way home was virtually non-existent. Tristan broke as many traffic laws as he reasonably thought he could get away with just to get Rory home and take her up on her earlier actions. He rested his hand on her knee as he drove, initially setting it there to see what kind of reaction he'd get. She'd smiled at him, reached down and squeezed his hand, then went back to messing around with her phone. She didn't shift her leg away from his hand, or make any effort to remove his hand, despite the fact that it rested on her bare knee. He slowly inched his hand up her leg towards her thigh.<p>

She gave no reaction at all. She continued to text whomever she was texting with. In attempts to get her attention, he shifted his so instead of resting on the top of her thigh, his fingers ran down the inside of her thigh towards the seat. He fully expected her to sigh at him in an exasperated manner, or shift her legs, trapping his hand between them so he couldn't slide any further up. Instead, she smiled at her phone and shifted in her seat moving slightly closer to him and giving him better access. He dragged his hand higher up her thigh so his fingers were grazing her knickers. She moaned lightly, and smiled, still focused on her phone.

"You know you're making me crazy, don't you?" he asked.

"I'm making you crazy?" she repeated. "Are we home yet?"

"Soon," he confirmed as he accelerated just a little faster.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

They had barely pulled into the garage, and Tristan hadn't even shut off the car or shut the garage door when Rory found herself being unbuckled from her seatbelt and being pulled towards him. He pulled her close and threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her face to just the perfect angle for a deep tongue-y kiss.

"Thanks for standing up for me at lunch," he whispered between kisses.

She panted, "happy to help. Now are we going to go upstairs?"

Tristan shut off the car and hit the button for the garage door. "I kind of like it in here."

"I don't. The console is in the way," Rory muttered.

He pulled her over the console so she was sitting on his lap. "Better?"

Instead of answering she just leaned in and kissed him.

...

Despite the battle of wills, Rory eventually won out and the pair ended up back in the bedroom.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

It was the ringing of his cellphone that pulled Tristan from his cozy slumber. He patted the other side of the bed to find it empty, but still warm. Rory had stayed all night again, and must have just gotten up recently. The phone continued to ring, so he pushed himself into a seated position and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?" he answered sleepily.

"There you are! You haven't called me back, I've been worried sick!"

Crap. It was his mother. He should have looked at the caller ID before he answered the phone. He sighed before speaking, "Why have you been worried about me? Seriously, until last week it had been 12 months since we'd spoken. Now you think if I don't answer my phone or return your phone call right away you have something to worry about?"

Marcia DuGrey huffed in exasperation. "Don't be an asshole Tristan. I'm your mother, I'm allowed to worry."

"Gee, and you wonder why I don't pick up the phone."

"Well since I've got you now, how about we set up a lunch date," she started, completely glossing over his point. "I was thinking tomorrow."

"I work for a living Mother."

"Well if your busy, then Rory and I can have lunch together. She said last week that she was between projects."

Realization was dawning. His mother didn't really want to have lunch with him. She wanted to be seen with Rory. "Sorry Mom, Rory works too. She's been cast in the project I'm working on."

His mother sighed at the other end of the line. "She's not too upset about dinner is she? You know your father didn't mean it."

This caused Tristan to burst out laughing. "What are you talking about? He meant every word of it."

"You didn't tell Rory that, did you?"

"You expect me to lie to my wife?" he asked harshly. "I've spent most of my life trying to make excuses for you and Dad, and you know what, I'm done with it."

"Tristan," his mom started, "you'd..."

"I'd what? Tell the truth? To my wife? Just because you and Dad enjoy living some great facade doesn't mean that I intend to have my marriage be that way. I'm not going to sugar coat you to Rory. You want her to like you, you have to earn it."

"So about lunch..."

He sighed deeply. "I'll have Rory check her schedule and get back to you when she has the time, and the inclination to see you."

"If you want to give me her number, I'll follow up with her myself. That way you're not caught in the middle."

This was just too much. Rory had originally said he could set up lunch, but the more his mother pressed, the less inclined he was to acquiesce. Instead more laughter came spilling from his mouth. "Do you think I'm stupid? I'm not going to give you Rory's phone number. Then you'll stalk her. It's bad enough that you stalk me, but I'm not going to subject my wife to it. If she wants to give you her number, she will. Until then, you will go through me if you want to contact her. Or if you'd like it better, you can go through her publicist."

Before his mother could get another word in, he disconnected the call. He wrapped his fist around the phone, squeezed his eyes closed, and pounded both fists into the mattress. Man that woman could infuriate him!

_Ahem._ He heard Rory clearing her throat to get his attention. His eyes snapped open and he found her standing in the doorway with two cups of coffee in hand. "That bad?" she asked.

"My mother," he said with a sigh.

"She finally got you to answer the phone, huh?" She came back to the bed and handed him a mug of coffee before going back to her side and climbing back in.

He looked at her. She was wearing a pair of pajamas similar to the ones he'd stripped off of her on Friday night, but these ones had cute pink and white stripes instead. She'd pulled the covers back over herself and was propped up against the head board like he was but instead of her legs being stretched out, they were crossed like she was back in grade school.

"I was asleep when it rang and answered it without looking. Complete rookie mistake."

Rory nodded. "So what does she want?"

Tristan couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Just the usual. She wants to have lunch with us. Well, if I'm busy that's okay, just lunch with you would be fine. She doesn't want you to think badly of her and my father."

"Are you kidding me?" she asked through the laughter.

"I wish."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I'm busy during the week and you are too, but I'd pass along her message and you could get back to her. She tried to go the 'you can give me her number and I'll contact her myself' route but even I'm not that sadistic," Tristan explained.

She smiled at him. "Thanks for that."

"I know you said I should feel free to set something up, but she's just pissing me off. Do you mind if we put it off a while?"

She thought about it for a moment and sipped her coffee. "Well my dad is coming this next weekend, so that's out. The weekend after that is Halloween... do we have plans then?"

"Yes - I don't know what they are yet, but we'll have them, my mother will not be getting her weekend lunch date in October."

"Okay then. We should wrap up the mini series the first week of November, or at least my part of it. And after that I'm off to New Mexico to shoot this other project, assuming it doesn't get postponed again. That'll take six weeks or so based on your estimated timeline... so I guess the middle of December? Is that putting it off enough?"

"You're going to be on-site in New Mexico for six weeks?" he repeated.

She nodded. "I'll probably have a couple weekends off... but if I'm coming home for the weekend, I can promise you it won't be to have lunch with your mother. No offense."

He smiled at her, "None taken. But six weeks? Isn't that a long time for newlyweds to be apart?"

"Aww Tristan, is that your way of telling me you'll miss me?" she asked wryly.

He looked down at his hands for a moment, then back at her. "Of course not," he said quickly.

"You will!" she exclaimed.

"No more than you'll miss me," he shot back. "But seriously, won't the press think it's funny if we're apart that long?"

"We won't be apart that long. If you're done with the mini series, you'll come with me, at least for part of the time. If not, you'll come out on a weekend or two. I'll come home for a weekend of two. With the short shooting weeks, it won't be noticeable."

Tristan chuckled. "The press comments if they don't see you on a daily basis. You really think they'll let it go unmentioned if they see me out without you or vice versa?"

This made Rory groan. "I can't not work."

"I'm not suggesting that you don't work. I'm just pointing out that it'll probably cause the press to flare up."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Any suggestions?"

He shook his head. "The plan you laid out is what I would suggest. Maybe before you go we should be seen out in public a lot looking like we're stocking up for our time apart. And if I can, I'll come spend at least a week of filming with you. Do you think you could get me a part in your film?" He was kind of joking when he said the last bit. Of course he'd like a part in the movie, but Rory was an easier sell to get into his project than the other way around.

She snorted. "I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," he told her earnestly.

"That's what fake wives are for."

"I suppose. So what do you want to do for the rest of the day? Brunch? Shopping? How do you usually spend your Sundays?"

She thought about it for a moment. "How I spend my Sundays seems to depend on who I'm with. What do you do with your Sundays?"

Now it was his turn to think about it. Should he tell her the truth? Or would that be too sad? "Depends on who I'm with," he repeated.

"Okay, what do you do when you're alone?"

"Watch sports."

"That's it?" she asked incredulously.

He hesitated then answered, "Yep. You?"

"When I'm alone?"

He nodded.

She looked down at her coffee cup, then raised it to her lips to take a sip. "When I was single I'd stay home and read scripts."

"What about when you were with Logan?"

"What about when you were with Danica?"

"I asked first," he reminded her.

She sighed. "With Logan, on Sundays, we'd shop. Not really to buy anything, just to be seen." He could tell she was slightly embarrassed at this admission, so he decided to respond in kind.

"Danica liked to go to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf to get coffee. Not to brunch, because she didn't eat, but to coffee so she could be seen."

"So what would you have rather done?" she asked.

He thought about it for a bit, he really did like to watch sports, but he knew Rory would not appreciate that. At least not yet. He could probably bully her into going to the bar to watch a football game, but she could easily retaliate by dragging him to many of the tons of events she got invited to and usually turned down.

"Earth to Tristan," she said, jerking him from his train of thought.

"Maybe brunch? I don't love to shop, and I don't want to go out just to be seen, but we should probably be seen. At least this way there would be food."

"I could go for brunch. Maybe with mimosas?" she suggested hopefully.

"Of course with mimosas... but if we keep up the drinking in public that might raise some questions..."

Rory sighed, "but it's brunch."

Tristan smiled at her, "I completely agree. You can't have brunch without mimosas."

"So we limit brunch to ONE mimosa each..."

"Or how about we share one pitcher?" he countered.

Rory moaned, "this totally makes us sound like alcoholics! If only the press didn't watch us everywhere."

"I think as long as we're not drunk, we're not fighting, and we're not fucking in public, the press can deal. For now we're having fun and celebrating."

Rory was silent for a minute and Tristan could see her wheels turning as she processed this. "But what about those photos from the other night? You were with me! We were doing shots together, it was all in good fun, and still it was twisted."

He frowned. "You know what? Screw 'em. Let's go have brunch and if the press gives us trouble tomorrow, we'll deal with it then."

"Okay," she replied hesitantly. "Let's do it!" The second statement was made with more confidence. "I'm going to take a shower and get dressed!"

She took a long sip of her coffee and set the mug down on the nightstand.

"Need help?" he asked suggestively.

She blushed. "Yes please." It was barely above a whisper but he heard her loud and clear.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

She couldn't believe she'd told him she needed help in the shower! She was losing her mind! Sex was one thing, she totally acknowledged that Tristan was right, they could not go a full year in close quarters without having sex. But it was supposed to just be sex. It had only been a few days, and she was already starting to feel some affectionate attachment to him.

She flipped the lever on the shower to start the water running, and stripped off her pajamas while she waited for it to heat up. Tristan had gotten out of bed at the same time that she did, but had left the bedroom. She assumed he needed to pee and was grateful that they had not reached the point in their relationship where he could pee in front of her.

Reaching her arm into the shower, she tested the water. Finding that it was just about perfect, she stepped inside and let the water rain down on her. She squeezed her eyes shut and returned her thoughts to her situation. Maybe because she'd only ever had sex with someone she was in love with, she was subconsciously trying to fit her new relationship into her old patterns? That was probably it. She would just have to keep reminding herself it was only sex. She nodded her head in affirmation, and opened her eyes just in time to see Tristan climb into the shower.

He immediately stepped towards her and wrapped himself around her caressing her skin from her shoulders down her back to her waist. She ran her hands up his back, appreciating his taught muscles and broad shoulders. She let her hands run up his neck and into his hair, but before she could reach up to kiss him he picked her up and switched places with her.

"You stole my spot!" she exclaimed.

He dropped his head and pressed his lips to hers. "Thanks." He smirked.

This meant war. Rory pressed herself up against Tristan as she reached behind him to get the loofah. She then proceeded to step back away from him, and lather her body the foamy shower gel he used. She lathered more than she had in the previous month, and when he reached the point that he could no longer resist his urge to touch her, she quickly slid past him and reclaimed her spot.

For the next 30 minutes they teased and tormented each other, each trying to get the coveted spot under the shower head, until finally the water started to cool.

"I hope you're clean because it's starting to get chilly in here," Tristan said as he stepped towards her and away from the running water.

She stepped away from him so he couldn't easily pick her up and place her back under the now cold water. "I'm good."

He flicked the lever to the off position and pushed open the glass door reaching for his towel.

"Where should we go for brunch?"

"The Kitchen?" she suggested.

"The kitchen?" he repeated.

"Yeah, it's in Silver Lake. I've heard great things about it."

"Ahhh... you can see my confusion though, right?"

She giggled. "Totally."

He threw a towel in her face, "Brat."

Rory wrapped her self in the towel and then grabbed another one for her hair. She twisted the towel up on top of her head and walked out the door.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Twenty minutes later Tristan was waiting in the living room. "Rory! Hurry up! I'm hungry!" he bellowed up the stairs. Despite the fact that he'd had numerous girl friends over the years, he'd never actually lived with a woman. He had assumed that sitcoms got it wrong when it came to how long women took to get ready - after all the shows were supposed to be funny, but Rory seemed to be proving the stereo type.

"I'm coming!" she hollered back.

He looked up the stairs, and still had to wait another few minutes for her to appear. Today's outfit was a sleeveless black dress with white polka dots, that fell just below her knees. She carried a pair of black heels with white trim in one hand and a simple black blazer in the other.

"I'm ready."

He swallowed audibly. "You look amazing."

She grinned at him. "Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself."

He glanced down at his own outfit. Variations on a theme apparently. Stylish dark washed jeans, and a black button down shirt. "Not too casual?"

At this, she shrugged. "This dress is more casual than it looks. Besides, it's just brunch... too dressed up and we'll draw attention."

"You mean more than we'll already draw?"

"Exactly."

She stopped by the door to step into her shoes and again Tristan resisted the urge to push her over. Instead he walked passed her into the garage. He slid behind the drivers seat and hit the button to open the door as he started the car. By the time Rory finally got into the car he had the GPS all sorted and was ready to roll.

"Thanks for waiting," she said sarcastically as she pulled her seatbelt on.

He snorted. "I'm sorry but if I stayed in there with you, I probably would have pushed you over."

Rory rolled her eyes, "what are you, six?"

He nodded. "Sometimes, yes."

She giggled, and he couldn't help but chuckle in response.

He backed out of the drive way and set upon his way. Letting Rory continue to giggle and fiddle with the radio. She was quickly flipping through the stations, not letting a song play for more than a second or two before hitting the next button. He couldn't even figure out what song it was before she decided she didn't like it.

"_Say you don't know me, or recognize my face..." _Rory stopped hitting buttons and squealed in delight. "I love this song!"

"Please tell me you're kidding."

She cranked the radio louder and started to sing along, "_Knee deep in the hoopla, sinking in the fight..."_

"You're serious."

She nodded as she continued to sing.

When the chorus came along he finally broke down and sang along, "_Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, don't you remember, we built this city... we built this city on rock... and ...roll."_

"See you know it too!"

"I swear this song is older than you are!"

"I'll have you know this song came out the year AFTER I was born," she told him indignantly.

"Still doesn't explain how you know it so well."

At this she shrugged, "My mom used to sing me 80's pop music when I was a kid. I got We Built This City instead of Rock-a-bye Baby."

He took a minute to consider this. He was quite surprised something that could potentially be so sad for her made her so cheerful. But instead of dwelling on it, he just continued to sing along.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

She couldn't believe she and Tristan were singing Starship in the car. She never let anyone in on her guilty pleasures. Regardless of her reasoning, Logan would have teased her mercilessly about the cheesy 80's pop. And Jess and Lane, while they would have remembered the song, would give her a bad time because they had much more sophisticated musical tastes. But for some reason, she didn't care if Tristan mocked her. She didn't expect him to, but she knew it wouldn't really hurt her if he did. Bizarre.

Since her song was over she lowered the volume and resumed flipping stations. She heard a random commercial and all the sudden she gasped.

"What?" Tristan asked quickly.

"I need to call Jerry! I need to tell him I'm accepting the part so I can make sure I'm not delaying production anymore."

"Really?"

"Yes really! I'm not a diva Tristan. I work hard, and I don't want anyone to think otherwise." His disbelief bothered her. Just because he'd been a prat when he was famous didn't mean everyone else was.

He sighed. "How about you call him after brunch?"

"Fine," she snapped.

"You're annoyed with me over this?" he asked.

"I didn't get where I am today by treating people like they're less than me."

"I didn't mean to imply that you did. But it's Sunday morning - we haven't even had brunch yet. Nothing different is going to happen if you call right now instead of if you wait to call until tonight after dinner."

She huffed. He was probably right, but still, she should have called him yesterday after they'd solidified the decision.

She stared out the window and watched the scenery pass by. She was working up to an apology when they pulled into the lot and Tristan climbed out of the car. She reached down to open her own door when the door opened from the outside. She startled slightly, but unbuckled her seatbelt and let the valet help her out of the car.

"Thank you," she said politely. The man nodded, and blushed slightly as Tristan swooped in and grabbed her hand.

Rory looked up at him to see a slightly hard set to his jaw. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I don't think I got enough coffee this morning," she added hoping to lighten the mood.

He didn't respond to her, but he did squeeze her hand reassuringly.

She smiled and gripped his hand, letting him pull her into the restaurant.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Tristan tried to rein in his frustration. She was like a spring storm. One minute everything was fine and dandy and the next minute she was pissed off.

At least this time she recognized that she'd flipped on him and apologized.

He approached the hostess both, and the woman looked up at him, "Reservation?" she asked.

"Uhm," Tristan stumbled. "No. I don't think so..." he trailed off.

The woman behind the counter gave him an irritated look.

"Rory did you have Micah make a reservation?" he asked.

"No, I forgot," Rory said humbly.

The hostess fixed her gaze on Rory, eyes brightening noticably, "Oh that's no problem at all Ms. Gilmore. We can seat the two of you right away."

"Thank you," Rory said kindly.

As the hostess turned away to grab a pair of menus, Tristan caught Rory's eye and rolled his own.

She lead them towards the back of the restaurant to a nice booth by the window. While the restaurant wasn't empty by any means, there were several open tables. Tristan wasn't sure what the issue was.

"We're expecting a large party in about 30 minutes," she told him as if she could read his mind, "But I'm sure they won't mind having the two of you in their section." She set the menus down and watched as Rory slid into the booth, and Tristan slid in next to her instead of across from her. "Your waitress will be here momentarily."

After she left, Rory glanced up at Tristan, "Why are you sitting next to me? Not that I want you to move," she added quickly.

He grinned. "Based on her comment I feel like we're either going to get a baby shower or a B list celebrity brunch, so I thought I'd try to protect you from the fans. Plus, if someone tries to take a picture of just you or just me, it'll be much harder."

"Thanks," she replied, honestly grateful. She leaned into him as she perused the menu.

"Any time."

He'd just started skimming the menu when a voice interrupted his train of thought.

"Hi I'm Danica! I'll be your wait..." the voice trailed off as Tristan looked up and saw his ex girlfriend standing right next to him.

This caused Rory to look up from her menu as well.

"Tristan, hi," Danica said nervously.

"Hey," he responded coolly, hoping she wouldn't try to start anything. Then, before Rory could say anything, he jumped in again. "Rory, this is Danica Marin. Danica this is..." he merely gestured to her, since Rory needed no introduction.

"Hi," Rory said with a smile.

Danica turned a bright shade of pink. "Hi Ms. Gilmore."

An awkward silence loomed, until Rory finally cleared her throat, "Can I get a blood orange mimosa?" she asked.

Danica nodded quickly, and Tristan added, "Can you make that a pitcher?"

"I, uhm..." she stuttered, "let me check."

She turned to walk away and Rory leaned into him again, whispering in that not really a whisper voice, "I thought you said your ex was an actress."

The waitress stiffened but kept walking.

"Rory!" Tristan hissed after Danica was out of earshot. "You're just asking for someone to spit in your mimosa!"

"Sorry," she apologized. "But..."

He sighed. "She didn't have this job when we were dating. But I knew she used to waitress before she got a steady gig. Maybe her work has slowed?" This explained so much. No wonder she wanted to go out and be seen all the time. Had she mentioned this to him... well it wouldn't have changed anything, but still.

_HOMH-HOMH-HOMH_

Minutes passed. Tristan had been quiet since her catty comment about his ex. She really shouldn't have said anything, but for some reason seeing the perky blonde that had at least a cup size on her and up until recently used to sleep with her husband, just set her off.

She saw Danica approaching with the pitcher of mimosas, "Do you want me to apologize to her?" she asked quietly.

He leaned in closer to her, "No." He captured her lips in his own for a quick kiss. "But thank you for offering."

She was sure he only intended for it to be a quick kiss, affection for the public show of it, but there was something about kissing him that was addictive to her. Once his lips were pressed to hers she no longer wished to stop.

_Ahem. _The throat clearing pulled her from their kiss. "Are you ready to order?" Danica asked.

"Dungeness Crab Cake Benedict for me," Tristan told her. His cheeks were slightly pink, and Rory knew she'd maybe pushed the kiss little too far. Not that she'd intended to, but...still.

"And you?" Danica asked looking at Rory with a cold stare.

Rory glanced at the menu again quickly to confirm, "The Pear Pancakes please."

Danica swiveled on her heel and walked away quickly.

"She's totally going to spit in something, isn't she?" Rory asked after Danica had cleared their sight line.

He sighed again. "Hopefully that's all she does."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know it's been ages, I'm sorry. I started this chapter back in November, and it just hasn't wanted to come out. If you're still following this story, thank you!<strong>

**As usual, I don't know Gilmore Girls... but The Kitchen is an actual place.**

**As to what's coming, I think after Rory starts to work on Tristan's project, things will start to move more quickly.**

**I look forward to your feed back and reviews, even if they're just telling me that I suck for not updating quickly enough!**

**The little notifiers are tiny bits of happiness!**

**Thanks for reading -**

**S**


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